


A Full Memory

by Kamil_the_Awesome



Series: KOTOR AUs [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic (Video Games)
Genre: Amnesia, Brief discussion about redemption, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Ebon hawk, F/F, Force Bond (Star Wars), Gen, Korriban (Star Wars), Lightsaber Battles, Memory Loss, My First Work in This Fandom, Only to have a bad time, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, The Dark Side of the Force, The Force, The Leviathan, Trask Lives, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-01-12 19:02:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18452708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kamil_the_Awesome/pseuds/Kamil_the_Awesome
Summary: KOTOR AU. The encounter aboard the Leviathan occurs differently and Revan finds herself dealing with not only her regained memories but also the ever-present temptation of the Dark Side. A story in four parts. DSF!Revan/Bastila





	1. Part 1 - Revelation

**Author's Note:**

> This is 1000% the type of story I write the moment my self-destructive urge to spend a week binge reading fan fiction ends. I’ll admit straight up that I haven’t played KOTOR (yet) and I’m going to be playing fast and loose with the ‘established’ canon where it serves the purpose of my narrative. Otherwise, I’ll try and keep things as vaguely close to the game as possible.

Cylissa d’Toln grimaced, a searing migraine making her stumble for a split second. She quickly regained her feet and continued running. The migraines had been coming with intensifying frequency and strength for the past few weeks. It wasn’t as if they were new though, for they had plagued her since crash landing on Taris nearly three months ago. She had nearly passed out while submerged beneath the seas of Manaan and her splitting head had nearly led her to her death while subduing a raging Krayt Dragon on Tatooine. Part of her wished she had succumbed to the pain in those moments, for everything seemed to be falling apart around her and for the first time since departing Dantooine, she felt doubt that their mission would succeed.

Her closest companions were acting strangely and she knew it wasn’t because they were still behind enemy lines after being captured. No, something worse was happening, one that could very well tear apart their team, prematurely end their mission, and grant a final victory to Malak and his Sith Empire.

Carth Onasi, former Commander of the _Endar Spire_ , had suddenly returned to the paranoia and distrust that had marred their relationship, both professional and personal, during the first days of that hellish week on Taris. In fact, he was worse, as if he now _had_ a reason to distrust her. Cylissa wanted to press the Republic soldier as to what the late Admiral Saul Karath had told him in those final moments on the bridge of the _Leviathan_. Unfortunately, they had to flee. Darth Malak, the Dark Lord of the Sith they were in part tasked with slaying, had returned to his flagship. Not to capture Cylissa or Carth, but to claim the third of their current party for himself.

Bastila Shan, Padawan of the Jedi Order and the only known user of the Force ability Battle Meditation living, had long confused Cylissa. The fellow Jedi— _strange_ , Cylissa still thought, _that I am a Jedi even if their teachings feel hollow and their Code doesn’t resonate with me the same way it does with her_ —had been evasive and defensive upon their first meeting. She was still like that on a few topics, Cylissa knew, but there were strong bonds between them. One had been mysteriously born through the Force while the other was one of the romantic variety forged during their quest. To her, they were linked in totality, even if she knew Bastila had doubts about the latter.

_“It’s against the Code,” Bastila would say in between languid and passionate kisses. “Yet I cannot help but be drawn to you, Cyl.”_

And that led Cylissa, as the trio dashed through the _Leviathan_ en route to the _Ebon Hawk_ , to consider her own great mystery. Since Dantooine, it felt as if she was retracing the steps of someone close to her, or bizarrely enough, her own. An absurd idea, for she had never met the man known as Revan, who was also called many things: Jedi Knight, the Revanchist, Savior of the Republic, Butcher, and Sith Lord. Revan was also, as most claimed, dead.

As far as she was concerned, it was a load of Bantha poodoo. Master Vrook, somehow distrustful and suspicious and prone to furious ranting yet a member of the Jedi Council that claimed all three were paths to the Dark Side, had implied during their first meeting when she was offered instruction as a Jedi that Revan still lived. Compounded upon that was the fact during her brief study of Force visions before departing the Jedi Enclave, Cylissa had determined the visions she witnessed did not line up with what Jedi texts said on the issue. There was a connection between her and Revan. One that Bastila, and now Carth, knew yet would not share with her.

_They are afraid,_ a mental voice whispered. _They are afraid of what you would do should you learn the truth._ It sounded like her but wasn’t her. And yet, she didn’t fault the voice.

She had been planning since Kashyyyk and her realization of something being wrong to wait until Malak was defeated to press Bastila on the issue, but she would not—could not—wait any longer. For, should things go as she hoped, Bastila and Carth would tell her exactly what they knew without her having to say a word. She was capable of that much.

“We’re nearly there,” said Carth, a strange edge to his voice. He clicked on his personal COM. “Canderous. Prep the _Hawk_ for launch. ETA of three.”

“Got it, Republic,” the Mandalorian replied. There was blaster fire, screams, and a mechanical laugh of ‘die, meatbags!’ in the background. “Cyl’s demented droid is guarding the ship against Sith Troopers. He’s been…enjoying himself.” Cylissa let a brief smile cross her face. If anyone would pull them from the flaming mess that was their capture and escape, it would be Canderous Ordo. She trusted the man enough to do that, at least. And with HK, they should have a clear shot to the _Ebon Hawk_. There was a pleasant if concerning, lack of Sith Troopers and Dark Jedi before them.

“We must hurry,” Bastila insisted. “I can sense the Dark Lord. He’s nearly upon us.”

Cylissa grimaced. Malak’s presence hung about the _Leviathan_ like a nasty sore. It was strangely familiar, though she wanted to claim it was only due to her ‘Revan visions’. She opened her mouth to reply, but that was when a cold presence swept over her. The blast door that would guide them along the shortest route to their destination hissed open.

Between them and their path was Malak himself. He was towering in red and black, bald and tattooed with a metal jaw. Cylissa knew immediately who he was, though it was strange seeing him in the flesh. _In every vision, he never felt so greatly of the Dark Side. That was Revan, and even he held it at bay through will alone. Malak has allowed himself to be consumed._

_The fool,_ that other mental voice added.

Carth acted first and acted rashly. He drew his blaster and fired, shouting. Cylissa felt her pulse pound in her ears and only registered the red bolts cross the short distance.

Malak blocked the bolts and then shoved Carth aside with the Force as if the pilot was but a nuisance. He laughed, and Cylissa felt a strange, disturbing sense of _déjà vu_ in her gut. Her migraine almost hissed as the intensity rose.

“Ah, Bastila Shan. You are finally mine, even if you do not know it yet. You shall make a fine replacement for Darth Bandon. Just as I replaced Revan.” His eyes—yellow eyes, hating eyes, _Sith_ eyes—left Bastila and fell upon Cylissa. The recognition made her migraine spike, sudden and vicious. She felt as if there was a wall in her head with _something_ smashing at it. “And then there is _you_. When I heard about you, I was curious to meet you, to see what was done to make you revert. It has been some time—”

“You had a real jaw last time I saw you,” Cylissa blurted. She then gritted her teeth as a memory of Malak without a jaw sprung to mind. The red clothes he wore were similar, yet different, from those the Dark Lord now wore. _Why am I seeing this?_

“Have you truly forgotten then? Did the Jedi do that much damage to you?” Malak asked. He was genuinely curious, which not only threw her for a loop but went against everything she knew of the Sith.

_Jedi? What would they do to me? It’s not like I’ve ever come into conflict with—_

The migraine smashed _hard_ against her skull. Her eyes bulged for a moment and, as if drunk, Cylissa stumbled into the wall to her right and leaned against it as if it were her entire world. Her left hand rose to cover much of her face as the mental wall— _and where had it come from_ , she still wondered—fractured, splintering and letting whatever was behind seep through. Her skull screamed bloody murder as memories played, moments from their quest as if they answered her puzzling questions.

_“They say the Force can do terrible things to a mind. It can wipe away your memories and destroy your identity,” Carth said after they made the jump to hyperspace, escaping Taris and its destruction. Bastila had just confronted her about training on Dantooine, which didn’t sound that bad to Cylissa. If she were Force-sensitive as the Jedi believed, she would need training. Carth’s words, however, had frozen her in the co-pilot seat, if only for a moment. Why did it resonate with her in such a horrific manner?_

_“_ _What greater weapon is there than to turn an enemy to your cause? To use their own knowledge against them?_ _” That had been Bastila’s rhetorical words to her in a moment of brief respite upon Dantooine. She had a strange expression at that moment, one almost of regret and doubts, and had purposefully blocked Cylissa out through their bond._ Who do you think of? _She had wondered at the time._ What did you do to make those words sound so sad?

The migraine pulsed once more. Her eyes, normally a soft hazel, flashed yellow as for a brief moment, a soaring rage burned through her. And, with an ultimate finality, the mental wall was blown away and the truth came forth in a rushing wave of memory and sorrow.

_Revan sat within his chambers, alone and before a mirror. He pulled down his hood and drew off his helmet, the infamous Mandalorian mask that hid his features. It was not a man’s face in the mirror, distorted sallow and black-veined by the Dark Side. Instead, it was a woman, pale and cold with a sharp, harsh beauty. It was Cylissa’s face, and yellow, willful eyes burned in dark sockets. And then there were flashes of_ her _past._ Revan _’s past. Of the terrible, yet great things she had done._

“…Alek…” Cylissa—Revan—whispered. Her voice grew with every word. “I… I remember. You. The Temple. Cathar. Corellia. Dxun. Cassus and Mandalore. Meetra—kriff, what _did_ the Council do to her after she went to confront them? Malachor and Dromund Kaas. Our quest. My war. Your betrayal.”

_She_ was Revan, not Cylissa the smuggler pressed into Republic service and then made a Jedi. She had once been Jedi Knight Cylissa d’Toln, but then she had come upon the Genocide on Cathar and was shown by the Force how one Mandalorian stood for honor and life against Cassus Fett and his Neo-Crusaders. After that, there had only been Revan and her—though most say his—eternal crusade. There was the crusade against the Mandalorians and then the one against the Republic and the Jedi. Separate, yet the same. She would give the Council credit for returning her old name, though she mentally damned them for stripping her strength and burying it under many falsehoods.

“Ah, so you do remember,” Malak said, surprised and amused and even worried.

_What must I feel like right now in the Force? Do any survivors from Dantooine sense me? What of the High Council on Coruscant, the Jedi scattered across the galaxy, and the Dark Jedi sworn to serve me?_

Malak continued. “I had thought you were lost, Revan. But it seems you were only… occupied.”

“I hadn’t wanted to believe it,” Carth mumbled. Revan looked over and saw the pilot struggling to his feet. His eyes were focused on her, filled with sorrow and fear and hate. There was no sign of trust. “But it’s true, isn’t it. You _are_ Revan.”

“I am and I was and I may be again,” she confessed, a whirlwind of conflict and memory. She turned to Bastila, who flinched under her gaze. “What was your role in the Council’s manipulation? Is everything that has happened between us been a lie?”

“I was to…report to the Council should your original personality or your memories and powers as a Sith emerge. I disagreed with the decision to wipe your memories and install a false persona, but you had been so badly injured aboard the _Revanchist_ that I couldn’t say what would truly be the best option at that time. At least, that was what the Council told me when I asked.” Bastila then looked away, lips pressed tight and thin with regret. Revan could feel everything that Bastila was feeling and knew that at least one involved in her downfall would be forgiven. “It changes nothing about how I…feel about you.”

“You should know something,” Revan began, barely a whisper. Memories were continuing to flood her, fitting into place yet stepping aside for more. There were many constants through them, but one in particular spoke to her as appeasement for Bastila. “I have acted as I have in the past. Every choice I have made since the _Endar Spire_ is one I would have made, memories or no. Compassion was always my greatest strength—”

“And your greatest weakness,” Malak added. Revan turned back to her former friend, her former apprentice. “It led us into the Mandalorian Wars and then into Unknown Space. You led us to the Sith, which begun our journey to the Dark Side. It was your compassion that was responsible for our fall, Revan. It was also for the best.”

“That was my mistake, letting us fall so far,” Revan declared. She drew a lightsaber, not the one crafted under the watchful eye of Master Dorak on Dantooine, but one of two she had found snooping through the cargo bay during one sleepless night. It came to life in a flash of violet light. They were a sharp gasp behind her—Bastila, who knew _too much_ —but Revan ignored it, striding forth. “I shall rectify the mistake I made when I punished you for the Destruction of Telos IV, Malak. You went _against_ my orders, you fracking nerf herding fool. You destroyed a valuable world, one that could have been used to shorten the war. A precious supply of Force-sensitives not directly under the influence of the Jedi. I should have taken your life, not your jaw, for that. Clearly, I was the fool.”

Malak chuckled. “I welcome the attempt, though you will fail. You are weak, and as you say, a fool. The circle is now complete Revan. When we last met, I was the learner. Now I am the master.”

“Is that so? Then show me if you’re worthy of being the Dark Lord of the Sith, Darth Malak.” With that, Revan sprung forward, the Force boosting her movements. A second lightsaber—the blue one crafted on Dantooine—slipped flicked out of a sleeve and into her left hand. Malak ignited his own weapon, met her violet blade, and sidestepped as she ignited her blue-bladed weapon and made to carve through his right kidney.

_Kriffing bastard is too familiar with my brand of Juyo and has clearly planned how to fight it, mindless of how much of my previous skill I’ve retained. Good thing I never held myself to a couple Forms._

They exchanged four more blows before Revan switched forms. Moving from Juyo—the vicious Form Seven—to Djem So—the lightsaber-combat variant of Form Five—turned the fight in Revan’s favor. Malak was taken off guard, and though Form Five was a defensive style, it put pressure on him to watch for counterattacks instead of focusing on wearing her down with superior strength. The fight continued, increasing in speed and fury, as Revan drew upon the Dark Side as she had not since the fateful encounter aboard her flagship. In the back of her mind, through the Force bond that first bound her and Bastila close, she felt concern bubble up.

_Do not interfere_ , she told Bastila through their bond. _Malak is my responsibility. I must be the one to defeat him._

_And protecting you from the Dark Side is mine_ , Bastila retorted. _I…I care too much about you to let you return to the Dark, Revan. I could not bear to let it happen._

Revan locked blades, her two versus Malak’s one, and through the bond said, _I love you, Bastila Shan. I love you as Cylissa and I love you as Revan. Your love has kept the Dark at bay. You can draw me back to the Light once this is finished._

She then pushed the bond to the back of her mind, letting only the warmth of Bastila’s emotions permeate through.

“Enough,” Malak said. He shoved Revan back and then blasted her with Force lightning. She was able to catch most of the attack upon the blades of her lightsabers, but a pulse was wild enough to slip past the guard. The pain seared through her, though she gritted her teeth to hold back a scream.

“Impressive,” Malak whispered. He moved closer, adding more power to the attack. Revan adjusted her guard, crossing the blades before her body. The Dark Lord continued his approach until they were close enough Revan could easily decapitate him. Yet, she continued to block the lightning.

“End this cowardly trick,” she bit out. “Unless you have learned nothing from Telos and your attempt upon my life.”

Malak snorted and then caught her off-guard with a devastating kick to the gut. It flung her far enough to crash into the same wall Carth had collided with. Her head smacked the wall and the worst of the migraine she’d been holding back solely with the Force and her own anger overwhelmed her senses. Memories flashed and flooded, though not enough to fully take her away from the moment before her.

“Come on, get up,” Carth said bitterly, looping an arm under hers. It was surprising, but she had yet to betray him in full, she surmised. He lifted her, though her legs struggled to support her body. Everything seemed to blur—memories, her surroundings, those around. Darth Malak flickered with the Alek she had fought side by side with through the Mandalorian Wars. Bastila seemed to switch between the concern of the present and the uncertainty of the recent past, and the determination of their first encounter.

_By the Force, she was beautiful even then…_

“It seems you have grown weak, Revan.” Malak approached, ready to finish her. “Your end has finally come.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it!”

Revan looked up, blinking, and saw that Bastila had engaged Malak. Her double-bladed saber pressed the attack. Sentinel yellow drove against Sith red. She spared a glance back. “Go! I shall hold him off. You must find the Forge!”

“But…” Revan slurred, struggling with past and present. “Bas…you…”

“I understand,” Carth said. He shifted about, lifted Revan so she was over his shoulders, and grabbed her fallen lightsabers. “May the Force be with you,” he called.

“And with you!” she shouted. The blast door closed, cutting them off from their friend. Carth turned from the sealed door and began along another route to the _Ebon Hawk_.

Revan, upon his shoulders, could only sob. She had lost and gained too much in so short a time, and when she tried to reach out through the bond, there was only an unnerving silence from Bastila.

* * *

“Will you tell them, or should I?” Carth asked, tone biting and overly harsh. Revan glanced at the pilot and sighed. Anger rolled off him in waves and she was certain Jolee and Juhani could feel it as well. The Cathar had an odd look, yet the old man was clearly unaffected. _Curious._

Some three hours had passed since they escaped the _Leviathan_ and there was over a day before they reached their next destination. Leaving Bastila to face Malak made her stomach twist. She knew with certainty her Jedi lover lived. Malak desired her too much to kill her now. _Hold out, Bastila. I will not abandon you, ever. Do not give in to the Dark Side._

“Tell us what? Does this have to do with why Carth has been a sourpuss since we abandoned Bastila?” Mission asked, frowning. The young Twi’lek was frighteningly intelligent for the tender age of fourteen. She reminded Revan too much of herself at that age. So much so, it hurt.

“We did not abandon Bastila, and yes, this is about why he’s being an obstinate nerf herder. More so than usual, that is.” She sighed, rubbing her face. “The Cylissa d’Toln you all know is a fake,” Revan said. Her eyes moved from Mission and Zaalbar, the Twi’lek girl’s Wookie companion that swore a life debt to Revan, then to Jolee and Juhani, her fellows in the Force, and then to Canderous and the droids T3-M4 and HK-47. All of them were confused in some manner, except for the old man. _Wonder how long he’s known._ Her voice sounded bitter in her head.

She settled herself and then continued. “The smuggler-soldier story was a lie to…hold back the truth of who I am. Becoming a Jedi was a…a return to who I had been. I was, until several years ago, Jedi Knight Cylissa d’Toln, widely respected throughout the Order and a top candidate for a future spot on the Council. In the time we have been together, I have acted just as she would have then, even without my former memories.

“But that is not the name I am best known by. I have been called many things. Savior and hero, monster and villain, a butcher and an icon and too many other things to list right now. For I am Revan, the Jedi Knight who fought and defeated the Mandalorians, who disappeared and fell to the Dark Side, and then declared war upon the Republic before being betrayed by my apprentice, Malak.”

A long moment of quiet passed as her words settled upon the crew.

“Wait, really?” Mission blurted, eyes bulging. “You’re…Revan? But I thought Revan was a man. And, you know, dead. Do you remember being the Dark Lord?”

“I remember _everything_ of my past, Mission. It’s…disconcerting having some thirty years of a forgotten life strike in mere moments. I’m still sorting through everything. Me being a man? That was a falsehood crafted to protect me throughout the Mandalorian Wars and it stuck when the Jedi Civil War began.” She ignored Carth’s odd cough. “Only a select few—Alek, Meetra, some of the Admiralty, the Jedi Council—knew the truth. I told Mandalore when I defeated him at Malachor V before the Mass Shadow Generator was activated. In exchange, he told me of the threat that drove them to war.” She paused and whispered to herself, “I really need to find out what happened to Meetra after Malachor. She was too good of a friend to abandon as I did, but I was already slipping down the path to the Dark Side then.” Revan coughed and then raised her voice to continue. “And clearly my death was an exaggeration.”

“Wow,” Mission murmured, almost star struck. “That’s wizard…”

“It ain’t ‘wow’ nor ‘wizard,’ Mission,” Carth said, almost a growl. “Do you know what she’s done? The broken oaths, the great casualties created in her wake? She should’ve been court-martialed for Malachor V, not called a hero.” He fixed his glare upon her. “I was right to be doubtful of you on Taris. How can we trust you, now that you remember everything? What’s to stop you from betraying the Republic?”

“I am your friend, Carth Onasi,” Revan declared. “I have been your friend for months. My past does not change that. I thought you finally trusted me or has everything that has happened since Taris meant nothing to you?”

“I thought you were a Jedi, someone who fought for the Republic. Not a Sith and especially not the Dark Lord hi—herself.”

“I…” Revan’s voice fell off. _Am I a Jedi? I wasn’t much of a Sith, or at least that is how things feel searching my memories and thinking of the Sith I have faced. Yes, I did fall to the Dark Side. But the ambition, the cruelty? It was tempered by rather…Jedi motivations on my part. They were tools to save the Republic from itself and to force change upon the Jedi._

“Your name doesn’t matter to me,” Canderous declared, putting a stopper on Carth’s ranting. “I followed you when you were Cylissa and I will follow you as Revan. You gave us the best damn fight out of everyone in the Wars and of every Jedi out there, you’re the only one worth an ounce of respect. Most Mandalorians would give their frakin’ arm to fight beside you, and here I am with mine intact. Frankly, it’s an honor to serve and fight by your side. As far as I am concerned, you are Mandalore and deserve my loyalty and those of my people.”

“Thanks, Canderous,” Revan said, proud and grateful and a tad bitter. “It feels strange knowing I am Mandalore when I fought a war to stop him.”

“You defeating the previous Mandalore is reason enough to be called so, but I witnessed you take the Mask of Mandalore with my own eyes at Malachor.”

Revan frowned. She didn’t remember Canderous from that battle, but then she only recognized a few Mandalorians while they were in armor. _I should track down that bastard Cassus Fett after Malak has been handled. If there’s anyone I should’ve gotten before the Wars ended, it was him._ “That gold thing? Hells, if you want it Canderous, you only gotta ask. I trust you to lead the Mandalorian people. Once my business with Malak is finished, I’ll give it over. Or you can fight me for it; whatever helps you sleep best at night. Just put that bastard Fett’s head on a spike for me.”

Canderous nodded, grinning. He seemed to enjoy the idea of Cassus Fett dead as much as her. _Means I have made a good choice then._

“I believe there’s something we’re ignoring, something I was getting to,” Carth growled. Everyone turned to him, but he only had eyes for Revan. Wary, furious eyes of betrayal and fear. “There’s the fact we have been traveling around the galaxy with a monster this entire time!”

“Don’t try and put this all on me, Onasi,” Revan said, all cold fury. “Bastila was the only one aboard who knew the truth of my identity. I was willing to wait until Malak and the Star Forge had been destroyed to press her on my strange connection with Revan, especially with how fragile our…relationship is. I’ve known for a while now that there was a connection. I just, well…”

HK-47, who had been standing about in the background muttering _something_ to himself since she had revealed the truth, finally spoke up. “Query: May I shoot the whiny meatbag, Master? He is clearly making you act like a moody meatbag. Recitation: It reminds me of the moods your useless meatbag pupil could put you in. You are much better than this, especially among other meatbags.”

“ _Fierfek_. Why is it now that you have to remember _your_ past, HK?” Revan mumbled. Zaalbar roared in disapproval. “Oh shush, you furry sod. Mission says way worse when you aren’t around.”

Mission shouted at her, protesting the comment. That sparked the others to begin shouting. Revan grimaced, sensing an oncoming headache.

“Shut it, all of you!” she screamed, a hand pressed hard against her forehead. Her eyes scanned the central area. Judging from the odd looks she received, she feared they were flickering between hazel and yellow. _I wish Bastila were here. I could always trust her and our bond to find peace among my emotions._ “Jolee, Juhani. You’ve both been quiet. What are you thinking?”

“I’ve been expecting this conversation for a while,” Jolee said. His old, wise eyes stared at her and she swore they pierced her and saw everything within. “I knew from the moment we met who you are, girl. The Council was mistaken to return your original name to you if they wanted to keep you being Revan a secret. Though I will say it’s nice to see you know the truth. I confronted Bastila about that matter a few times, especially after she kept asking me about…my past. I wonder what you kids have been up to.”

_She wanted to know how he kept to the Light, yet is willing to love. The Masters would never approve ideas like balance or ignoring the tenets of their Code. They hold to it so rigidly and she is too used to following their instructions. I only hope I can save her from Malak before he destroys my work to draw her away from their dogma._

“And you?” Revan asked Juhani.

The Cathar presented a smile by the standards of her people. “You have saved me three times, Revan. You freed me from slavery on Taris when I was a child and led me to the Jedi. Then, when I thought myself fallen, you shined the Light where I had not seen it in too long. And during our travels, when I discovered the man responsible for my father’s death, you reminded me that revenge is not the Jedi way.”

“You are stronger than you think, Juhani, and you are a good Jedi.” Revan looked around at her companions. Other than Carth, sulking to the side, they all smiled (in their own way) at her. “I…I’m grateful to have all of you traveling with me. I will need some help of my own before we reach Korriban. Since my memories have returned, I have been…tempted, I guess. It would be all too easy to use the Dark Side.”

“It remembers you, and you it,” Jolee said. He sighed, frowning. “I’m too old for this, girl. I stopped one Sith close to me and that was during a war too similar to this one. The doing almost destroyed me. If I must, I will do it again.”

“And that is why I want you by my side on Korriban, at least as much as I can risk it,” Revan said. “To reach the Star Map, we must infiltrate the Sith Academy there, for the map is within the Tomb of Naga Sadow and only the most favored student of the Academy can venture into that tomb. Well, without getting blasted into pieces that is. I will need someone to keep me from falling into darkness as I climb to the top. It would be simple to let the Dark Side retake hold.” She paused, and with a smirk, added, “It’d be like riding a swoop bike.”

That drew a few groans. Revan had been tempted to ask Karath how long the _Leviathan_ had sat, waiting to ambush the _Ebon Hawk_. She had burned a couple days competing in the swoop racing leagues on Manaan, and factoring in their time on Tatooine, closer to a week of their journeys. _I hope they weren’t able to catch us because of my distracting hobby._

“Who else will you take?” Mission asked. “Can I come along?”

“Can you plot to kill someone in cold blood?” Revan asked harshly. “Can you lie so well your enemies believe you aren’t already planning to put a lightsaber into their back? Would you be comfortable being thought of as my slave?” The young Twi’lek blanched, hints of white on her blue face.

“Never mind,” she whispered, disturbed.

“See? The Academy is a dangerous place, and Malak’s rule will have only made it worse.” Revan sighed, leaning back. The migraine had lessened with her original memories returning, but there were still hints of a headache. “HK will also come along, and perhaps Canderous. I may just have you hang around the nearby settlement as reinforcements. They won’t object to Mandalorians the same way they do in the Republic.”

“I want to come along,” Carth said. Revan turned to him and frowned at the volatile mess of emotions in his eyes. “There was one other thing I learned from Karath aboard the _Leviathan_. My son, Dustil, lives. Unfortunately, he was discovered to be Force-sensitive and has been taken to Korriban to be trained.”

“Sithspit,” Revan growled. “You will need to be careful if you are serious about this. If he is within the Academy, it will be nearly impossible to draw him out. If the trainers I had installed have remained after Malak’s coup, he is likely already so deep into the Dark Side that I doubt he will ever find the Light out.”

“I still want to try and save him,” Carth said. “He’s all I have left.”

“I think that settles it,” Mission said, standing. “You can take Carth once you find his son and then sneak him out! After Manaan and all those times they jailed you, it should be easy.”

Revan stared at the Twi’lek girl and then sighed. “Do not be so confident, Mission. Korriban is the home of the Dark Side and its grip is pervasive. The planet itself was made uninhabitable by normal standards thanks to it. Dustil could very well be lost to Carth. Forever. Breaking away from it is…difficult, even for the strongest. It took Bastila and the Jedi Council to pull me away from the Dark Side and I was unconscious the entire time. I did not have a choice, though I have yet to deny the Light.”

_I once let the Dark Side manipulate my choices. I fear its grasp, yet I seek it as if it were a comfort. Kriffing memories, reminding of things best forgotten._ She paused and looked towards where she felt a whimper through the Force bond she shared. _Hold out, Bastila. I will return._


	2. Part II - Temptation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the longest chapter by a good margin, but then Korriban is chock full of side quests and extra storylines that aren’t available in the story-driven moments that comprise the other chapters.

As Revan disembarked from the _Ebon Hawk_ and stepped onto the surface of Korriban, a surreal feeling washed over her. The Dark Side of the Force, so rich and succulent upon the planet’s surface, swirled about as if greeting an old friend and welcoming her home. There was even a brief moment where she swore it nibbled at her earlobe as if a lover tempting her to bed. She wanted to deny the darkness, to boldly declare she was a Jedi and a Servant of the Light, yet she would have to, by some fraction, embrace it if she were to succeed in her mission upon the planet. The Sithling monitoring the landing pad glanced at her, frowning, but remained quiet. He was either not Force-sensitive or was smart enough to keep his mouth shut.

“Come along, HK, Jolee. We have an Academy to visit.”

“Query: Do I get to kill meatbags?” She could tell HK had enjoyed their capture, if only for the brutality he got to deliver. “Statement: You have not allowed me to kill many meatbags since purchasing me. Other than in that recent fight.”

Revan glanced at the pad worker. He was scowling at HK-47, likely considering whether it was worth it to destroy the droid. “If this was another Czerka platform, I would say yes. Though once I complete my training, I will let you kill that one.”

Jolee snorted as the droid praised and whined about his master in a single sentence. The monitor blanched and thus failed to approach them to demand a landing fee.

 _He should count himself lucky I no longer let HK perform disintegrations._ Revan had given the order after a nasty situation on Kashyyyk during the overthrow of the Czerka Corporation facility on the Wookie homeworld. It had given the droid prestige among the natives and had led to both Mission and Zaalbar warming up to HK.

“Let’s get going then,” Jolee said, frowning. “The sooner we are gone, the sooner my bones stop aching so much. This place is worse than the Shadowlands.”

“No arguing here,” Revan muttered. She could still smell the Shadowlands, though sometimes she thought it was the sewers of Taris, a moment that felt as if it was a lifetime ago.

They departed the small spaceport of Dreshdae. It was the only true settlement on Korriban, for the planet had long been given over to the tombs of dead Sith Lords, great and small, ancient and recent. Somewhere there was an empty one dedicated to her, though the likelihood of her bones being laid to rest there had fallen in the past months. Revan knew the Academy had been installed to both protect this world’s Star Map and as a way to test and twist any Force Sensitives found that had not been captured in battle or defected from the Jedi Order. They were either kept on Sith ships and trained there or taken to Trayus and handed over to the Lord of Betrayal. _Another foul pit I will need to deal with. Kreia—Traya—is there anyways and I…I have missed her. My final lesson with her shall be an interesting one indeed._

“Tell me, Jolee,” Revan began as they made their way through the settlement. The Academy sat on a hill above everything, a great bastion of durasteel and deception. “Are you thirsty?”

The old Jedi snorted once more. Unlike Canderous, Jolee was not one to indulge in drink during missions. _He does have a remarkably good ear for a fossil, though. I don’t think even I can eavesdrop half as well without drawing upon the Force._

“Guess I can indulge once,” Jolee remarked. “Though I wouldn’t put it pass this planet to have no cantinas. The Sith never seemed to be the types to have fun.” His eyes scanned over the crumbling structures around them. Clearly the Sith cared little for maintenance. “I must say, girl. I’m surprised you haven’t tried to go in and kill the lot. I may not approve of that method, but it would make it harder for you to be slowly drawn in by the Dark Side.”

“Subtlety is a tool even a Jedi should know how to wield, Jolee. Anyways, I’d rather not have Malak or some other ship full of Sith and Dark Jedi appear in orbit and blast us to dust,” Revan murmured. “He may suspect we have come here, but I cannot say what he will do, now that he has Bastila. Another slight against me he will _pay_ for.”

A moment of silence passed, and then Jolee responded. “I’d recommend thinking of her without letting anyone know, girl. I could feel the Dark Side fill you when you spoke of her and Malak.”

“I wasn’t thinking of her, old man. Just of what Malak will do to her.” There was a sting in her hand and Revan glanced down to see a sparkle of lightning.

Jolee noticed too and frowned, his old wary eyes focused on the sparkling hand. “And that’s different how?”

“Statement: Master clearly thinks of killing her former pupil when she is enraged, not her meatbag companion—”

“HK,” Revan warned as the lightning dissipated. “Do you want to be reprogrammed? I still have that pacifist core from Manaan. We were fortunate the Selkath didn’t force me to install it then and there.”

“Correction: She was not thinking of…of Mistress. Just the original meatbag.”

“Bah,” Jolee complained. “That’s not what I meant, you damn tin can.”

“Enough,” Revan declared. “We are here.”

They entered the cantina. It was a long facility with a curved bar to their right. Several of those around them are dressed in the grey uniforms of the Sith Academy, though few look like pleasant company. Revan looked about and saw that nobody had given her even a single glance. _This may very well be the easiest Star Map since Dantooine._

“Who are you to wear black _here_?” asked a high, snotty voice. Revan looked left and watched three Sith Initiates approach. Their leader was a blonde human woman with a cruel sneer. “You are no Sith, worthy to wear our colors. You are another Jedi, aren’t you? Come begging for our power like the weakling you are.”

“Sith?” Revan hissed. She could feel the Dark Side edging her on. It felt _good_ , but she held it at bay. “You speak of Sith as if you understand what it means, you stupid foolish swot. I am _more_ than Sith. I am someone you should step aside from, if you value your life in the slightest. Unless you manage enrollment for the Academy, scamper off before I show you what a _True_ Sith would do to punish your insolence.”

“Enrollment in the Academy? So you are a Jedi,” she sneered. Her companions, tall men with stupid smiles plastered onto their faces, spat at Revan’s feet. “You are all worthless trash, unworthy to learn our dark secrets. You will find here on Korriban that we Sith stand between life and death for all who come to our world. If you were to…amuse us, I would be willing to let you live for now.”

“Amuse you, huh?” Revan began. “Do I look like I carry a Bith band around? Step away, girl, or suffer my wrath. Cutting you down would be simple, let alone your lackeys.”

“Exclamation: Let us blast these meatbags and be on our way, Master. They are nothing before your power.”

“Why do you always suggest murder?” Jolee asked, irritated.

“Statement: It is in my programing, old meatbag. Do you wish to learn about killing—”

“I think they’re standing up to you, Lashowe,” one of the men said. The other grinned as if what she would do excited him.

“What is going on over here?” The voice was soft and cruel, a promise of violence and vengeance to come. Revan knew the face of Yuthura Ban well, though the uniform she wore spoke of a fall caused not by the Dark Side, but its influence upon others. The violet twi’lek had been one of her favored Knights during the Wars for getting the rare Padawan up to snuff. Too many of them had died early into the fighting, unprepared for combat against the Mandalorians thanks to the softness of the Council so soon after Exar Kun. It didn’t hurt that they shared a hatred for slavery, though Yuthura’s hatred of the practice made drawing her into the grasp of the Dark Side all so easy.

“Initiate Lashowe. I should not be surprised. Just because Uthar favors you does not mean you can go about threatening whomever you wish, as if you were a real Sith. Unless you want to be cut down before you prime, that is. If you had a true sense of the Force, you would know this stranger could cut you down before you ignited your saber.”

“Whatever, Ban,” Lashowe sneered. Revan briefly wondered if the girl had any other emotions. “Soon enough you will be gone and the last of Revan’s legacy will be swept away. Malak’s vision is that of the future. A strong Sith!” With that, the three Initiates stalked off, though Lashowe took the opportunity to threaten Revan once more. “If you somehow find your way into the Academy, don’t expect me to take it easy on you. You’re fortunate that Ban likes charity cases.”

“Now you see what nonsense I have to deal with,” Yuthura said. She turned to Revan. “I am Yuthura Ban, one of the two Masters of the Sith Academy here on Korriban. I take it you are here to join us?”

“I am,” Revan said. “These two are but… _companions_.”

“Ah,” Yuthura said, nodding. “The droid looks potentially useful, though I cannot the same of the old man. Yet, I find him familiar…”

“I’m not as big on twi’lek clubs as I was in my youth,” Jolee said, falling into an act. He paused, looking the Sith Master from toe to lekku. “Though if you could help warm this old man’s bones…”

“Enough out of you,” Revan hissed. She drew upon the Force and tightened Jolee’s throat enough to send a message. The old man frowned at her, but kept quiet once she released her grasp.

“Amused exclamation: Master, why I have not seen you act so like yourself in so long!” HK declared.

“You’re rather…curious,” Yuthura determined. She muttered something that Revan missed and then continued. “If you are interested in joining the Academy, I can point you in the right direction. Only Uthar Wynn has the right to deny any candidate I consider…worthy enough to join the Academy.”

“He’s the Headmaster then?” Revan asked. Yuthura nodded, lekkus twitching as if annoyed.

 _I should not be surprised,_ Revan thought. She kept her face placid as she recalled her choices as the Dark Lord. _I only installed Uthar into the Academy because of his ability to instruct in the usage of the Dark Side. His promotion is clearly Malak’s doing. I never would have placed him in charge of something as important as the Academy here on Korriban. The man’s views on the Dark Side are too destructive and corruptive to truly be useful._

“Well then, what must I do to enter the Academy? There has to be some type of trial to judge my worthiness.”

Yuthura smiled. “You are perceptive. Good. You will make a strong Sith in time.” She then sighed and glanced at a group of Initiates with a furious scowl. “Among those four is a Republic spy. If you are as strong as I suspect, find them, confirm their loyalties, and deal with them as a Sith would.”

“I understand,” Revan said. She glanced at Yuthura and added, “Do you wish for me to call you _Master_?”

“Perhaps in time,” Yuthura said, smiling. “But first, prove my suspicions right and prove your worth.” And with that, the twi’lek instructor departed.

“You can’t be thinking of going through with that,” Jolee hissed.

Revan grimaced, staring at the four pointed out to her. “Whatever it takes to finish the mission. If I must sacrifice a Republic spy to achieve victory, then I shall.”

“Exclamation: As you should, master. However, I have a better solution. Suggestion: Let’s kill all four meatbags and then search their possessions. You have no issue looting dead bodies, as I have observed.”

“That would be a waste,” Revan said. It was true that she looted corpses. Better she had them than some scavenger. “I may not even kill the spy. Yuthura will expect me to, but she may only be playing into the game Uthar has the Initiates distracted with.”

“So what will you do then, girl?”

Revan smirked. “Just watch as I find them.” And with that, she crossed over to the group of four. They paid her little attention as she slipped into the widest spot in their group. All four were human, with light complexions and varying hair colors. Their eyes were all natural colors and as Revan looked from face to face, she stumbled upon one she never thought to see again.

Trask Ulgo had somehow survived his encounter with Darth Bandon aboard the _Endar Spire_.

_No wonder Malak’s bonkers apprentice didn’t recognize the name. He never died. Blast, he might have been a Sith spy all along. That, or Yuthura knows more than she lets on._

“D’Toln? Is that you?” Trask asked, the shock on his face matching her own.

“In the flesh. I’m surprised to see you, Trask. You know, alive and all.”

“But not surprised to see me on Korriban?” he asked. The other three humans watched them closely.

“Given the rate I run into people I know in some manner, nothing would surprise me. I heard a rumor that the former Commander Onasi’s son is here.”

Trask made a face as if puckering up to kiss a kinrath. It reminded Revan too much of Bastila. “What did become of him? From what I’ve heard, the two of you and Bastila were the only other survivors from the _Spire_. I, uh well…”

“No hard feelings, Trask. I was a smugger before the Republic pressed me into service. Anyways, if you’re curious what happened after Taris, Onasi returned to the Republic Fleet. I don’t know much of what’s been going on since then other than a rather uncomfortable and awkward reunion on Manaan.”

Trask nodded. “And Bastila?”

“I was with her when Malak finally snatched her up. She was stuck with him to become his new apprentice and I was shuffled here when they discovered I had latent Force sensitivity. And like a month of training on Dantooine and a couple on our ship.”

“So you’re a Jedi?” one of the others asked. She reminded Revan too much of Lashowe. The temptation to draw lightsaber and cut her down was strong, but easily suppressed.

“Bastila defied the Council once they realized I was a greater danger trained and taught me a couple things. Didn’t hurt that I bedded her. Quite the tongue on her, too.”

That shocked the four. It was also a lie, though Revan would have taken Bastila to bed if given the chance. A long, awkward moment passed where Revan feared she would have to draw fight her way out. And then Trask barked out a laugh. The other three joined, all grinning.

“So Trask,” Revan eventually said. “Why don’t you introduce me to your friends.”

“Ah, yes,” Trask said, nodding. “Well, the unbearable pilot who questioned you is Janna Fel. She claims her grandfather fought for Exar Kun, but we all think that’s a load of shit.”

“I tell you he did. Just because I’m the only one who didn’t defect to the winning side doesn’t mean I’m lying.”

 _Thank you for crossing yourself off my list,_ Revan thought. _Jannis Fel, you are clearly not a spy. Too hotheaded to be a spy, unless you’re an excellent actor. You appear to be like any ace pilot with a chip on their shoulder._

“And the other two?” Revan asked, eyebrow raised.

“I’m Bink Otauna,” the dark skinned man said. He gestured to his friend. “This is Tag Greenley. We’ve been best friends since, well, forever.”

“18 years,” Tag corrected. “We’ve been friends for 18 years. Well, closer to 17 but rounding up sounds better.”

Revan nodded. _They’re idiots. Why in blazes would you subject me to this lot, Yuthura? Did you hope I would kill them all in my efforts to prove that I can be a Sith?_

“Well, it was great seeing you once more, d’Toln,” Trask said. He was suddenly nervous and her fingers twitched. “I should get going. I’m being redeployed onto the _Vigilant Enforcer_ over in the Arkanis Sector. Something about trouble with Czerka in that region.”

“Yes, well I imagine they’re having problems in a few systems.” _Such as Anchorage being sacked by Sand People. Whoops. At least Helena got onto a transit before the worst struck._

She watched Trask depart, glaring vibroblades into his back. “You have a problem with him?” Jannis asked.

“I doubt his loyalties, that’s all,” Revan whispered. She turned to the other three and raised her voice back to normal. “It was nice meeting you three. If you hear anything of interest, do send word. My ship is berthed in Dock Seven at the Spaceport, though that may change soon. I think I just punched my ticket into the Academy.”

* * *

Revan tracked Trask down to a decent hut on the south side of Dreshdae. Jolee and HK were sent back to the _Hawk_ so they could report to Carth what she was up to and remain, since she planned to immediately head for the Academy. They were then to send Canderous to the cantina to keep an eye on the comings and goings of anyone of interest, especially the three she had spoken with. And to see if, like everywhere else they had been, there were some random Mandos to kill.

_I hope Carth doesn’t fly off the handle when he learns I’ve been tasked with handling a Republic spy in the manner of a Sith would. He’s bound to assume I have more blood on my hands and might even think I’ve returned to being Darth Revan. His paranoia has become tiresome._

She approached from the hut’s rear, coming up to an open window. _Rookie mistake._ Revan peaked inside and saw Trask standing before the holographic form of Forn Dodonna.

“It’s as the Jedi feared, Admiral,” he reported in the midst of their holocom call. “Revan has regained some sense of who she was. Perhaps she’s even returned. I can’t say for certain what exactly she remembers, but something has slipped through. I hope that the Jedi letting her retain her former name wasn’t the cause. Thank you for informing about that little tidbit they left out.”

“What evidence have you seen that suggests Revan has returned?” Dodonna asked.

“She lied well,” Trask said. “I knew the fake d’Toln profile better than Bastila did—a shame about her, but hopefully the Jedi can wrangle up a mission to rescue her—and I know for certain that the Council had her specifically programmed by the Council to be a terrible liar. Yes, she would still regain some of her linguistic skills—the thirteen languages in profile, her natural charisma—but lying was one they specifically targeted to guarantee they would know if she became Revan again.”

The Admiral sighed. “We may be coming to a conclusion too early about which Revan she may be, Lieutenant. However, you’re on the dot about Revan’s memories. I received an encrypted message from Commander Onasi nearly an hour ago. He reported they were taken prisoner by Admiral Saul Karath after completing the segment of their mission on Manaan. They were able to escape the torture cells and he confirmed Admiral Karath’s death. However, during their escape, they encountered Malak. He not only revealed Revan’s identity to her, but also took Commander Shan captive. Until Shan is recovered or encountered in the field, the Republic is going to assume she is an enemy combatant. The Jedi will be allowed to try and bring her back, but I don’t want to risk men if she’s been turned.”

“Sithspit,” Trask swore. “Are we certain we can still trust Revan?”

Dodonna shrugged. “I cannot say. Carth states she is continuing with the mission, even with Revan claiming all of her memories have returned—”

“All?” Trask questioned, flabbergasted. “That’s even worse! I’m surprised the High Council hasn’t tried to recall the _Ebon Hawk_.”

Revan sighed and slipped through the window, landing on her hands and rolling onto her feet. Even for as quiet as she was, drawing upon the Force to mask her presence, Trask turned around, a hand at his waist. His eyes bulged upon seeing her.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, drawing his blaster.

“I am to assume that Revan is with you, Trask?” Dodonna asked.

Revan moved forward so the Admiral could see her. “I am. I would say it’s good to see you, Forn, but that would be a lie. There’s a reason why during the Mandalorian Wars I sent you after soft targets and even kept you away from the worst of Malachor.”

“It really is you.”

“In the flesh. You should be more worried about Trask here,” Revan said, laying a hand on his shoulder, “than about me. One of the Masters at the Sith Academy here suspects that he’s a Republic spy. I doubt it’s hard for them to come to that conclusion, given he was captured off a Republic ship over Taris.”

“Do you have a point?”

Revan sighed. “Getting there, Admiral. The one who suspects Trask has asked that I handle him as a Sith would, should I wish to enter the Sith Academy—”

“So you are a traitor,” Trask said, stepping away. “You plan to murder me.”

“If I were as you claim, I would have waited for Dodonna to have ended your message and then blasted you with Force lightning before you could turn on me, Trask.” Revan glanced at a disbelieving Admiral. “As things stand, I need to enter the Academy so I can complete my mission on Korriban. I’m trying to move quickly here, since it will take nearly four days to reach the system where the Star Forge is from here. Worst, Malak has had Bastila for almost two days already and I am worried about her.”

“You fear she will be turned,” Dodonna said, grim and disturbed.

“I fear that she will be so far lost to Malak’s machinations that she can’t come back. He has enough knowledge of the Dark Side to turn her in a week, though I cannot say how stable she will be.”

A fourth joined the conversation—Master Vandar. “You speak as if one can return from the Dark Side, Revan.”

“Good to see you to, Master. We heard of what happened to Dantooine from Karath himself. And yes, I do believe one can return from the Dark. I did so with Juhani during my retraining. My bond with Bastila has grown and deepened since we last met with you, Master. If she has fallen, I am the only hope to draw her back.”

The Jedi Master frowned, a peculiar expression given his odd race. Few knew where their homeworld was and there were widely varying names for their species. She had once asked Vandar what they called themselves and had only received cryptic words about the Force and its many nexuses.

“Redeeming Bastila we will leave to you, Revan. Careful on Korriban you must be.”

“I understand, Master,” Revan said. She paused and then admitted, “I could feel the Dark Side swirl around me the moment I stepped onto the surface. It was…odd to say the least.”

“Can we get back to the part where she threatened my life?” Trask asked.

Revan rolled her eyes in a dramatic matter. “I never said I was going to kill you. Only that if I’m going to complete my mission, I am to handle you in a manner fitting the _Sith_. I was actually thinking of something more along the lines of enslavement. There’s a Sith trick I learned during my tenure as Dark Lord that I should be able to not only use, but reverse. You’d only be under my influence until Malak has been defeated. After that, you can go back to the Republic and get a medal or whatever.”

“That’s worse!” Trask shouted. “Admiral, there has to be a better way.”

Dodonna looked almost ponderous. “I hate to say it, but Revan’s idea could work. Master Vandar has informed me about the basics of your mission, Revan, and if this is necessary for victory, then I will be willing to go through with it this _one_ time. It keeps Trask alive and it gives you one more ally on an enemy world.”

“Revan, are you certain you can undo its effects?” Master Vandar asked.

“I wouldn’t suggest it unless I could. Won’t even have to worry about falling to the Dark Side. It’s one of a few abilities I learned that was suspiciously Light sided as far as Sith techniques go.”

Vandar nodded. “Then in place of the Council, I am giving you permission to use it, should Lieutenant Trask agree.”

“He doesn’t have to,” Dodonna said with unquestioning steel.

_It appears I was wrong about the good Admiral. Forn has grown a backbone since the Wars._

“Trask, I’m giving you an order. You’re too good a soldier and spy to be wasted. You will comply with Revan’s plan until you can be returned to Republic hands.”

Trask grumbled. “Understood, ma’am. Do know that I am protesting this order.”

“I will make a note of it.” Dodonna turned to Revan. “Do it.”

“As you command, Admiral.” Revan deactivated the communiqué with a wave of her hand and then turned to Trask. “Don’t worry too much. You’ll remember…some things.”

* * *

Revan watched impassively as Trask finished licking Yuthura’s boots clean. They glistened with saliva, sparkling dark and menacing. Her lips had twisted into a vicious smirk, one that drew forth the Sith Lord within Revan. She—that dark part of her soul that was still Darth Revan—had enjoyed seeing a Republic spy be abused, twisted by her power through the Force. The Jedi aspect of her did her best to ignore Trask.

“I knew there was a reason I believed in your potential,” Yuthura declared. She handed Revan a silver token the size of her palm. One side had the traditional Sith symbol—a filled circle surrounded by four jagged bursts—while the other displayed Revan’s mask. Noting her surprise, the Sith instructor added, “Uthar has tried to have new ones forged with Malak’s metal jaw, but he has not found the time to do it himself and I have undercut attempts by his underlings.”

They glanced down at the man still on his hands and knees. _I hope he doesn’t mind being beneath us until we can find somewhere private to speak._

“I will confess that I am also surprised,” Yuthura continued. “I had assumed you would cut him down and bring me his head and perhaps evidence of espionage. That you bound him so tightly to your will is impressive enough, but showing me the exact encryption he used to speak with the Republic? One would be forgiven for assuming you were a Sith Lord come to test us.”

Revan held back a smirk. _I was, once, though I have not come to test you._ “I am to assume you are accepting me into the Academy?”

“Naturally,” Yuthura grinned. “Will you keep him about or…”

“He will remain in my ship. Best not to let any misguided Initiates try to steal him. I was also hoping to move my ship,” Revan confessed. “The Spaceport manager is displeased with it sitting there for over several hours without a full disembark of the crew or moving cargo, I have been told. Time must’ve gotten away from me. I had hoped there would be a special hangar or landing platform for students of the Academy.”

“There is a platform here, though you will need Uthar’s permission to use it. His personal shuttle is down there and he is particular about what ships are berthed with it.”

“I understand, Master.”

The twi’lek woman shook her head. “Until you’re made my apprentice, call me Yuthura.”

“Of course,” Revan said. “I should have introduced myself back in the cantina, actually. My name is Cylissa d’Toln.”

There was a flash of recognition in Yuthura’s eyes, though it had the hint of confusion connected to it. _You recognize the name, but not where or to whom it truly belongs. Do not fret, Yuthura. I shall rebuild you, if I must. If I remember correctly, your loyalty is still owed to me, though I do not know how you will feel if I claim not to be Sith._

With that, they entered the Academy. Yuthura led the way, with Cylissa a step behind and Trask rushing along on hands and knees. _Forgive me when this is finished,_ Revan thought, glancing back at the ensorcelled spy. She briefly wondered if he had been with SIS before they met on that fateful day, but forced the thought away. She felt a strong presence growing near. One she wished she were not familiar with.

“Yuthura. Please introduce us to your new…student.”

Uthar Wynn had not changed an ounce since Revan had last seen him. He still held the arrogance and pride of any higher ranked Sith. His pale eyes scanned her and he frowned. “I can sense the Dark Side already within her. Tell me, my apprentice, did you find a Dark Jedi I do not know of and bought them here to cheat me?”

“I would—” Yuthura began. Revan cleared her throat and the chamber fell silent. Several Initiates and even a few Acolytes watched on with burning, hateful gazes.

“I have felt and even used the Dark Side, but I am not a Sith or a Dark Jedi at present. I have come here to complete my training. And because the Valley of the Dark Lords is rigidly separated from the colony beyond these walls.”

Uthar smirked. “I see that Yuthura chose…wisely in bringing you here. Darth Malak has asked me to find an appropriate replacement to be his apprentice, should his efforts to turn Bastila Shan fail. A shame what happened to Darth Bandon. He was a favored pupil of mine before he was selected by Malak.”

Revan held back her hatred. _No use in alerting Uthar that I am someone other than who he thinks I am. Let him feel my anger and think it just the Dark Side. When the time comes, I shall cut him down in the way I will cut his master down. He will be reminded then why Revan was the Master and not the Apprentice._

_And it is amusing—and painful—to hear him speak so highly of that weakling Bandon, knowing who struck him down._

“Your tasks shall begin tomorrow. Earn enough prestige and you may get the opportunity to test for the rank of Acolyte,” Uthar added. “I am curious to see what successes you will achieve while in our care. Yuthura can explain the rest as she gets you…settled.”

“I understand,” Revan said with a polite nod. “One more question: my ship with those loyal to me aboard are currently at the Spaceport. Yuthura mentioned there’s a hangar here at the Academy.”

“You wish to know if you can move your ship here?” Uthar asked. Revan nodded and he smirked. “Hmm. An interesting and unique Sith you will be. This I can already see. Unorthodox, yet effective—a lasting legacy you will leave behind. I have heard of your encounter with Lashowe and her _followers_ at the cantina. I am curious why you did not draw your lightsaber.”

“Lashowe is weak and a fool, but one day she may have potential. I won’t destroy a potential asset unless I know it will become a greater liability. I have seen in my travels other Dark Jedi waste resources and opportunities by giving too much into their anger or fear.”

“An almost Jedi-like explanation,” Uthar said.

Revan snorted. “Please. A Jedi would never consider destroying Lashowe if she was one of them unless she turned to the Dark Side. The Masters may’ve impeded her growth, but they do not have the heart to kill one they believe their own.”

Uthar stared at her for a long moment and then he laughed. “Oh! I have not seen one with your potential since the Dark Lord and his former master came to me so long ago. They were great Sith—powerful Sith.” He nodded and turned to Yuthura. “I will grant our newest Initiate permission to have her ship berthed in our hangar. We may have a new Sith to send into the galaxy sooner than I would have thought, should what I foresee come to pass.”

“Of course,” Yuthura said. She turned to Revan, who once more held back a frown. “Follow me, Initiate d’Toln. I will show you to your chambers while here and then you can have your ship come about.”

She followed the purple twi’lek through the dark stone halls of the Sith Academy. Somewhere behind them was Trask, still on his hands and knees. Those initiates who hadn’t been there for Revan’s presentation to Uthar watched her pass with curious and hateful glares.

 _Will they dare to attack me in the night? HK has orders to blast anyone who dares to board the_ Hawk _that I do not approve of. I don’t need my true identity, or my true purpose here, revealed. They will attack me, or worse—alert Malak to my presence. I want him to wait for me aboard the Star Forge, so I can defeat him where he will be strongest, to remind him of how arrogant he has become. And it will be sweet to prove to him that I have been and always will be greater in every way imaginable._

“Here we are,” Yuthura said, drawing Revan away from her thoughts and plans. The Sith instructor gestured to the door and the panel beside it. “Only I know the password, so you will have a modicum of safety here. Few of the Initiates here have a talent for slicing, though I would not be surprised if they have hid that skill from us.”

“Of course,” Revan said. If anyone tried something, she would just kill them. “And the password is?”

“Ah.” Yuthura smirked. “It is _Kreia_.”

Revan remained placid, letting the twi’lek before her probe away and search for a reaction. She would not let Yuthura know just how much that name affected her, given what had happened and was happening concerning her former master on Malachor V.

“Kreia. A curious word. Was she some Sith?”

Yuthura blinked, as if she had expected her little trick to work. “She is the Master of our other training facility, though she is not known there by that name. She was Revan’s master when they were both Jedi.”

“Were you once a Jedi?” Revan pressed, playing ignorant.

Yuthura smirked. “I was. I served Revan in the Wars and when she turned to the Dark Side, I followed.” The twi’lek looked away, a despondent expression upon her face. “She despised slavery and for that, she has my eternal loyalty.”

 _Has. Ah, and I bet you suspect who I am._ Revan nodded and exchanged farewells with Yuthura. She waited until her new instructor had disappeared before entering her new chambers. They were simple, with a hard bed, a small desk, and a data pad waiting for her to use.

“You may stand,” Revan said. Trask rose, scowling. “And you may talk at your leisure as long as we are alone.”

“That was cruel,” were the first words from his mouth. “Are you now going to send me off to wait around on your ship?”

“A good idea,” Revan drawled. “But for now, you will remain with me. I will need a second pair of eyes and ears with me at all times. At least until I can get someone more useful to join me, which will have to wait until the _Hawk_ moves. I may use you as a tester for my food and drink for now, but I doubt any of the Initiates would have the daring to poison me. Assuming they can acquire anything potent enough to harm me.”

“All of you Sith are foul.”

Revan rolled her eyes and then drew out a small holoprojector. She had swiped the device while on Manaan and connected it to the larger one aboard the _Ebon Hawk_.

“Cylissa to the _Hawk_. Come in.”

“This is Mission!” the bubbly twi’lek girl said, responding. “You in?”

“Naturally. Tell Carth he has permission to dock the _Hawk_ inside the Academy hangar. He spotted it on the way down to the surface, so don’t bother him with coordinates. Tell them that you serve Initiate d’Toln. If they try and shoot the _Hawk_ down, respond in kind. The Sith will just have to accept giving us some… hospitality if they decide to be difficult.”

“Gotcha. Anything else?”

“Yes. Summon Canderous back to the _Hawk_ before you move. I’ll see about getting him permission to come and go between the Academy and the colony town when I can, though I think he’ll enjoy blasting whatever’s down in the Valley.”

“Understood. Mission out.”

* * *

Revan internally sneered when she was given the tasks that Uthar gave all Initiates. It seemed having them compete against each other in such simple, mindless ways had replaced the determined methodology she had devised upon establishing the Academy on Korriban. _A shame, and even worse that Yuthura seemed to do nothing to stop the decline of this facility. If I were Darth Revan once more, I would purge Uthar’s taint and rebuild what I once had built. Malak clearly only knows how to destroy, the fool._

_It seems rejoining the Jedi may have been for the best. They, at least, can competently train some of their students._

That morning, the _Ebon Hawk_ moved from the Spaceport to the Academy hangar and she exchanged the ensorcelled Trask for Canderous. She had initially considered both Jolee and HK as companions, but had changed her mind. She knew the old man would be upset—especially after she had directly spoken with him about helping her resist the Dark Side—but after revisiting her memories, she realized that Uthar Wynn would know and recognize Jolee Bindo. That would make him suspicious of her. HK was given a separate mission to complete. She ended up deciding to have Juhani come along. The Cathar frowned at the sensations of the Dark Side on Korriban, but she was confident in her place in the Light to resist the temptation to once more Fall to the Dark.

Revan was still bothered by the fact the tasks she was given were insultingly easy for a true Sith Lord. She could see why the Initiates were struggling to grow into proper Sith waarriors—nearly all were simple spiteful creatures with none of the true strength of will one would assume a Sith would possess.

 _See how far they have fallen,_ Revan mentally declared, stepping out of the Academy and towards the Valley of the Dark Lords. _Weep, ye who flourish in the Dark. The Sith have destroyed themselves and once more, the Jedi will grow in peace. It was almost…fitting,_ she thought. _It is too fitting that as one wanes, the other waxes. The Sith I forged as Darth Revan will collapse without the same strength of leadership that forged them to begin with. A shame, but what else could have come to pass after Malak seized power?_

“Your thoughts are clouded by this place,” Juhani whispered, looking around with a frown. “This planet makes my fur stand and nose itch. It is nothing like my grove when I fell.”

“I would not call what you went through a proper fall, Juhani,” Revan said. “More like a Force tantrum or a flirtation with the Dark Side.”

Juhani began to pout after that, which amused Revan to no end. Canderous only smirked. She was pleased the Mandalorian and Cathar Jedi got along. It had been rough at first, but when Canderous had spat on the honor and life of Cassus Fett and declared that ‘as un-Mandalorian an act as ever imagined,’ Juhani became more willing to be around him. It turned out they were both fierce warriors and while Revan didn’t press into personal matters, she had an odd suspicion about whatever those two got up to in the storage hold during hyperspace journeys.

“Where are we starting?” Canderous asked, frowning at the grim, tan and barren world of Korriban.

“There are three tombs open to the Initiates of the Academy, all belonging to important and ancient Sith from the time before the Great Hyperspace War.” Revan glanced around and lowered her voice. “As I’ve said before, the one we want to get into is only opened to those who have the express approval of the Headmaster of the Academy.”

“Uthar,” Juhani said, voice flat. “He is a foul creature. Yuthura has a shred of light, even if it is insignificant.”

“I won’t deny the truth of that,” Revan said, nodding. “Now, he mentioned a few things that would give me _prestige_. Stupid idea, but he’s Malak’s creature. I’m certain Yuthura could come up with something better if she were in command.”

Her companions fell quiet as they descended into the dry basin where many of the early tombs could be found.

Revan wasn’t sure what to make of the Valley. While on one hand it was a marvel of architecture and vision, it was also a self-aggrandizing place worshiping some of the worst men to ever live. _Or best, if you are an ardent Sith._ Ajunta Pall. Marka Ragnos. Tulak Hord. Naga Sadow. The four were, as far as she knew, the most important Sith Lords to ever live, especially among those granted the title of Dark Lord of the Sith. It was tempting, to wonder if she would be among them if she had not been felled through the combined efforts of Malak and Bastila. Thinking of that day, those minutes, aboard the _Revanchist_ funneled a great deal of uncertainty and conflict into her. The Dark Side of the Force on Korriban didn’t help matters, for it fueled her growing anger and hatred for Malak and whispered thoughts possessive and corrupting about Bastila. She had taken a very long and cold shower that morning to purge the burning heat between her legs and the images of a pale, writhing form beneath her own. _If Bastila had been aboard the_ Ebon Hawk _when I had that dream, well…_

“You Sith Lords are something,” Canderous said, voice low to not travel. A few other Initiates could be seen, either hanging around or preparing to take on one of the tombs. One of them felt strikingly familiar, so Revan made her way towards him.

The young man turned to face them as they approached. He frowned exactly as his father did as he scanned their faces. “What do you want?”

“Delivering a message for a Dustil Onasi,” Revan said.

Dustil scowled. “Don’t call me Onasi. That’s my father and I am nothing like him.”

Revan smirked. “You appear to have the same trust issues that he has.”

Dustil paused and then frowned. “How do you know my father?”

“He’s my pilot. Tell the right lies, bribe the right folk, and you can easily take on the Republic’s finest pilots from them without protest.” She paused, holding out a hand before he could speak. “I want you to keep an open mind on this matter. Tonight, come to the hangar and pay a visit to the Dynamic-class freighter you’ll find.”

Dustil crossed his arms. “I want to know what you get out of it. You’re an Initiate like me, wanting to become a Sith.”

“I am,” Revan said, playing along. She sensed Juhani tensed and added, “Though I haven’t seen any Sith here. Brats who need to have arses handed to them? A dime a dozen. Try not to be like them, Dustil. I will see you tonight.”

With that, the trio departed. Revan could feel the boy’s confused, wary, and curious eyes focused on her back. She knew with those final words that he would come to confront his father, if only to learn more about her. How Carth would react, she wasn’t sure. Only that it would likely mean she would have to do more work to disillusion the boy with the Sith Academy, or subvert him enough to become her own spy within the facility.

“Boy seems to take after his old man,” Canderous said after a few minutes. “Do you think he’ll show or will he snitch?”

“He’s too curious to snitch. For now, though I cannot say about the future.”

“How can you be so certain?” Juhani asked, frowning.

Revan sighed, turning to face them. “I think part of it has to do with the way the Dark Side and its presence on Korriban works. It’s as if I can sense any deception and feel out the motives of everyone around me.”

“You were the Dark Lord. Does that play a role in it?” Canderous asked.

“I don’t know,” Revan confessed. “I will try and find out if Yuthura knows anything about it. And I need to determine where her loyalties truly lie, whether with me as Revan no matter what or with Revan the Sith Lord. I have reason to suspect she knows who I am.”

“If she’s loyal to you no matter what, what will you do?” the Mandalorian asked.

“Remove Uthar, for one.” Revan started to walk again, leading the others towards the Tomb of Ajunta Pall. The Headmaster had requested artifacts from the tombs and she knew Ajunta had his blade hidden away in his tomb. “If she’s placed in charge, then it will make whatever move I make in relation to the Academy easier in the future.”

“You speak as if you will become Darth Revan again,” Juhani accused.

“You are not wrong, Juhani, though I do not see myself retreading that path right now.” They reached the tomb and she added, “Be on your guard. I sense danger within. Tuk’ata, most like. Fierce beasts, though not as foul as a terentarek.”

“Nothing is as foul as a terentarek,” Juhani said. Canderous only nodded, vaguely familiar with the Jedi killing creatures formed through Sith alchemy.

“There is little worse than those beasts. I will have to fight at least two here on Korriban.” Revan paused to add, “I actually miss the fight against the one we encountered on Kashyyyk. Though, Bastila was…still…”

She turned away from them and slammed a lid onto her emotions. While the Dark Side of the Force fed on and pushed negative emotions, despair was the only form of sadness that it appreciated. And as such, if she were to give too deeply into them, Revan very well might as just storm the Academy with her blue and violet lightsabers blazing, carving through anyone who’d dare stand in her way until Malak arrived to vaporize the surface as he had done with other worlds.

 _Those are not the thoughts of a Jedi,_ she had to remind herself. _It was funny_ , she mused then. _I was never a good Jedi nor a good Sith. Just powerful and not foolish enough to be strung along by terrible masters._

The venture into the tomb was almost pleasant. Killing Tuk’ata with her companions by her side felt much like slaying Kath hounds on Dantooine. Larger, more annoying Kath hounds, but the comparison felt apt enough. The spirit of Ajunta Pall had told her to find the correct weapon or die. Revan felt insulted, looking at the three weapons available to steal. One wasn’t the right color and the other was awash in the Light Side of the Force. _Why in blazes would something like that be there? Is it a test._

They trekked back out of the tomb, chatting mindlessly as Revan felt two presences, as different as night and day, converge upon the tomb entrance.

“Hand the artifact over, Jedi,” one of her fellow Initiates declared, aiming a blaster at them. Revan rolled her eyes, briefly wondering why the kid didn’t have a lightsaber, let alone a vibroblade. “Or else I blast you.”

“Or perhaps you are the one to get blasted,” Revan said, noting a bit of movement outside the tomb. The Initiate frowned and then was then send flying forward, eyes wide with shock and then glassy with death. The corpse hit the ground and she noted that neither of her companions had jumped at the attack.

“Query: Is there someone you need killed master?”

“Finish the job, HK,” Revan said, rolling her eyes. The droid nodded and approached the corpse. He fired three bolts into the body—one where the first had hit, the second at the base of the neck, and the last to the back of the head.

“Statement: Maximum deceasing achieved. Meatbag has been purged of their short, worthless life.”

“Good.”

“Query: What do you want done with this useless meatbag corpse?”

Revan approached the body and stared down at it. “Leave the body for the next hapless idiot to come poking around this tomb. If Uthar wants the body back, he can come get it himself.” She looked up at HK and added, “Go sniff around the Tomb of Marka Ragnos. I heard rumor there’s a faulty droid inside. Something about not wanting to perform assassinations anymore.”

“Annoyed declaration: I will deal with the useless droid myself, Master.” HK turned and headed off for the tomb.

“Huh,” Revan remarked after several seconds. None of her companions responded, so they departed the tomb.

“Are you sure you want to leave the body there?” Juhani asked as they descended back to the base of the Valley. “He may have been a Sith, but—”

“One, that brat was no Sith,” Revan enumerated. “There’s so much more to being a Sith and seeing what comes across as one here is sad. Two, he got what he deserved, thinking he could ambush and steal from me like that. Let it be a sign for whoever tries to go into that tomb not to mess around. Or come after me.”

“I doubt anyone will see that body and assume that you were responsible for it. Do you have a third point?” Canderous asked.

“I do. Third was that he was taken out by a droid with a blaster. Frankly, that is embarrassing to anyone who thinks themself a Sith. Or Jedi, for that matter.”

“You would know with how many Jedi you turned and killed in the past,” Canderous added.

Juhani hissed. “There is no need to remind Cyl of her past mistakes.”

“It’s fine, Juhani. Hearing how others view my past is…nice, at times. Keeps me honest and aware of how others perceived me.” She looked over at the Cathar. “I do not plan to become a Sith once more, though I have been considering the idea of balance as I haven’t since I was Knighted.”

“Balance?” Juhani asked, frowning.

“Balancing Light and Dark. Being able to heal and hurt. Be neither Jedi or Sith, yet also both.” Revan paused to smile at her fellow. “I probably shouldn’t though. At least not until Malak has been defeated.”

Juhani only nodded, though she became distant as they trekked not to the Tomb of Marka Ragnos as HK was, but to that of Tulak Hord. The rumor Revan had heard claimed that Uthar’s former master was hiding around here, capturing Initiates and either killing them or sending them after his old apprentice to die themselves.

 _Another reason why I favored having Yuthura take control of the Academy_ , Revan thought. _Uthar’s master was said to be a remnant of the legacy of Kun and Qel-Droma. A legacy that I will snuff out, for that was one more error from my time as the Dark Lord._

Reaching the Tomb of Tulak Nord was as simple as cutting across the Valley of the Dark Lords. The area around it was quiet as they approached and Revan reached out with the Force, feeling for the mysterious figure she hunted. He was older, strong in the Dark Side, and waited for her to wander into a trap. She also sensed another Initiate—more boy than man—who was bound and unconscious in what she assumed was the man’s lair or home.

“Canderous, Juhani, go up ahead. I’ve found the threat.”

“Baiting him?” Canderous asked, amused. “Be quick then or I will kill him instead.”

Revan only smirked before sending them on their way.

 _At this rate_ , she thought, _I will be to the Star Chart and gone before the week is out. It would be almost hilarious knowing how much Malak has done to sow his own destruction._

* * *

Dustil frowned at the brown and grey freighter inside the hangar. The strange woman that Yuthura had recruited had told him to come to it, stating that his father was aboard. He snorted, doubtful of her story. He remembered little of his father, but he knew the man had loved the Republic more than his family. Why else would he have left them on Telos IV, prey for the invading Sith?

_Ironic, for I am one now._

“You took your time,” the mysterious woman said, emerging from a nearby shadow. Dustil flinched, surprised. It had been months since someone had snuck up on him. Yet somehow the upstart woman did it on her first day. “I almost thought you had gone to Uthar and blabbed like a good little Initiate, brainwashed and fooled.”

“I am neither brainwashed or a fool,” Dustil stated, sneering. “You, however, are definitely a fool if you think I am some pawn.”

“Oh?” she said, bemused. “I would suggest you be mindful of how others perceive you. Between the two of us, you are clearly the greater fool. At least fool enough to think you could measure up against me.” And with that, the woman let her presence in the Force wash over him.

He staggered back, shocked. It was a miasma of power and strength that she thrust onto him. And strangest of all, Dustil could feel both the Light and the Dark within her. They raged and struggled for control, but both sides were there. It went against everything he understood about the Force and he wondered how Yuthura and Uthar hadn’t noticed just how strange her Force signature was.

“Because they’re both fools and poor Sith,” she said, clearly knowing his thoughts. “Though Yuthura is the lesser of a fool. Come along.”

Dustil frowned as she turned to board the freighter. If he wanted to, he could easily put his lightsaber through her back. He held off from doing so, since she’d likely know before it could come to life with the weapon’s traditional snap-hiss sound.

_I need to find a way to protect my mind from her. She’s much stronger than I would’ve thought._

“Your mind is surprisingly easy to read, Dustil. I suspect your training has been corrupted to keep you from being able to shield your…less than Sith thoughts.” She turned to face him from the top of the ramp. “I can teach you—for a price.”

“Fine,” Dustil said and he followed her up. The ramp sealed behind him and she guided him deeper into the ship. As they entered the main hold, he froze.

There were more people than just his father. He recognized the Mandalorian and the Cathar that had been with the mysterious woman down in the Valley. With them were an old man who was dressed like a Jedi, a rather cute twi’lek girl, a Wookie, and a couple droids.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Dustil asked the woman, anger flush in his voice.

She shrugged. “I assumed Carth was gonna take you into the cockpit and you’d shout at each other for a few minutes. He’s the one who included everyone else.”

“Appraisal: This meatbag appears as worthless as the rest. Even worse than the one I blasted near that tomb. Request: May I kill him, Master?”

Dustil gaped. He never would’ve imagined his father traveling around with a murder-bot like the one before him. Even worse, the thing looked like it was rusted.

“No, HK.” She glanced at Dustil and added, “I’m surprised nobody found that corpse I left up in Ajunta’s tomb. It’s not like I went through the effort of hiding the body.”

“Who are you?” Dustil whispered, glancing at his disturbed father. He felt similar, a strange feeling for a potential Sith acolyte to share with a Republic man.

“The one who you owe your allegiance to.”

He scowled, crossing his arms. “Are we telling jokes here? I’d rather speak with my father now.”

“Same,” Carth declared, scowling at the woman. “Cyl—”

“Fine. Just remember the longer we dink around here on Korriban, the more time Malak has with Bastila. My revenge will be complete, _Onasi_.”

Dustil glanced between the two and then surveyed the rest of the hold. He knew both of those names. One couldn’t if you were an inspiring Sith. While he owed his loyalty to Malak until the moment someone—hopefully him—killed that monster, the name Bastila meant something completely different, and she was associated with another Sith he heard so much of.

_‘The one who you owe your allegiance to.’_

“You can’t be Revan,” he said, staring at the woman his father had called Cyl. “She’s dead.”

She smirked. “Nice to see someone isn’t ignorant of my identity. Tell me, did Yuthura tell you? Even Uthar would think to look for a man.”

“She did,” Dustil admitted.

“I assume she has tried to recruit you to join her…coalition.”

“Cyl, what are you getting at?” Carth asked. He glanced between his son and Revan. “You can’t be thinking of leaving him here! We have a chance to—”

“To undermine Malak in one of his strongholds,” Revan said. “By lifting up those who were, and I hope are still, loyal to me, we can create a divide amongst the Sith. It may even distract him long enough to rescue Bastila. What little comes across our bond has me convinced she’s approaching the tipping point. I fear it could even sway me.”

“But…she can’t turn to the Dark Side,” the twi’lek said, scared and sad and defiant all the same.

“You wouldn’t understand it, girl.” Dustil then sneered at the girl, who scowled in return. “The Dark Side is more powerful than the Light.”

Revan snorted. “More seductive and easier to become powerful with? Sure. But stronger? A fallacy, if any. Only ones’ inherent strength can dictate how powerful they are. Whether they use the Light or the Dark is of little matter, though they do often lead down different paths. Admittedly, Bastila’s worst traits mean that it will be possible for Malak to turn her.”

“Would you have turned her?” Dustil asked.

Revan grinned. “More than that, but then I did fall in love with her.”

Dustil sneered. “What sort of Sith falls in love with someone?”

“One not blinded by a desire for power and willing to be open minded about the Code.” She turned to Carth and said, “Your son is frankly a lost cause, unless we could discover if, say, Uthar had the girl he liked murdered because she was holding him back.”

Dustil tensed. There had been a girl, the only true friend he ever had in this place, but he didn’t know how Revan knew. Though the way she spoke made it sound as if Uthar ha been responsible for her death. And while he missed Selene, he had grown too powerful and progressed too far in his studies to turn away on the mere words of a stranger—and his estranged father, who was bound to say something along the lines of:

“See? The Sith are evil!”

His mouth opened to retort, but then he noticed the old man glaring at him and Dustil held back his response.

“The kid doesn’t know better,” the old man said. “I would imagine the Sith here used whatever resentment he felt towards you and cultivated it.”

“Jolee is right, Carth,” Revan added. “That’s the exact method I would use with someone like Dustil. It even has the added benefit of poisoning him against the Republic without the extra work. You’d be surprised how many of the newer recruits have to be taught and trained to hate the Republic.”

Dustil scowled at the former Sith Lord. What pissed him off was the fact she was making sense, revealing exactly how Uthar and Yuthura had worked with him to develop and grow as an Initiate.

She smirked at him and added, “I am right, aren’t I?”

“Yes, you are.” It was almost painful for Dustil, speaking those words. Worst still was the proud smirk directed towards him.

“Now, Carth wants you to abandon this place and come with us. I have a counter offer.”

Dustil blinked, ignoring the sudden outburst of protests and complaints from the others. This he hadn’t expected. The lecturing, the grand moralizing, those were all something he had expected to occur.

“What do want, Revan?”

“Yuthura will be taking command of the Academy in the near future. While taking you away would pacify Carth, you are more useful here. She will need lieutenants to handle challengers who, while not too weak, are beneath her notice. I will spare some time to help train you, or at least prepare you for the onslaught of challenges she is bound to receive. Her loyalty to me—or at least to Darth Revan—has made her many enemies.”

Dustil looked up, pondering the request. Before Malak had ascended to the position of Dark Lord of the Sith, he had considered himself a stronger supporter for Revan, if only for how she had punished Malak for his homeworld’s destruction. That and her methods pointed towards a smart conqueror, not a brutal one. Yet when Malak seized power and Uthar demoted Yuthura, he switched sides in that matter to protect himself.

“I will do it, Lord Revan,” he said with a bow. “I am at your command.”

She then dismissed him, her companions arguing with her about taking charge of the Sith once more, or so they had perceived his renewed loyalty. He wasn’t sure if she truly was, but he knew that whether Revan was a Jedi, a Sith, or something else upon Malak’s death, Dustil would follow her.

She, not his father, deserved it.

* * *

Yuthura stood in the Valley of the Dark Lords, watching as a freighter departed for Lehon. She was now the Headmaster of the Sith Academy. Uthar was dead, destroyed not by her, but by the newest Initiate she had brought in. The two of them had been inside the Tomb of Naga Sadow, waiting upon d’Toln to return when Lashowe joined them.

“Good, you have come,” Uthar had said to the blonde. “Yuthura’s special project shall be along soon. Are you prepared?”

“Of course, Master,” said Lashowe, smirking at Yuthura. “That Jedi scum has disgraced us for too long.”

“What do you speak of?” Yuthura asked.

“They mean that I have lied to all of you,” d’Toln said, joining them. Her lightsabers hummed blue and violet as during the Mandalorian Wars. “Yuthura, join me. I still reward loyalty.”

Yuthura moved before she could think, but once her mind caught up, there was only thing to say. “Welcome back, Lord Revan.”

Revan nodded and then turned her gaze upon Uthar and Lashowe. “I am disgusted and dismayed by what I have found here. If the Jedi knew how weak this academy was, they would strike you with the same efficiency done to their conclave on Dantooine. It is clear that I cannot suffer a creature of Malak’s to live.”

“So you would kill me, traitor?” Uthar asked, igniting his lightsaber. Yuthura and Lashowe followed suit. Their blades were all red, crimson like fresh blood.

“Yuthura is strong enough to handle you herself. However…”

Revan raised her arm in a slow, languid movement, and then crushed her hand into a violent fist. A loud snap echoed through the chamber and Yuthura almost laughed as Lashowe collapsed, head oriented in a strange, terrible direction.

The duel between Yuthura and Uthar was quick. She had picked up Djem So thanks to Revan and it proved to be an excellent counter to Uthar’s aggressive Juyo fighting. Once the bald Sith was dead, Revan approached her and said, “I recently fought Malak. We used the same forms the two of you just did, though I opened with Juyo before switching. Ironic.”

The violet twi’lek smiled, remember just how she was compared to her Lord. The departing freighter vanished into the sky. She had spoken true in that tomb. Lord Revan had returned, and she welcomed her return.


	3. Part III - Choice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this chapter more than any other was the impetus for writing this story. I had been playing around with ideas related to KOTOR in my head and one of the first scenes appears here in this chapter.

“Revan. I knew you would come for me. Malak did not think you would come here, but he does not know you as I do. I have missed you so _dearly_.”

Those words chilled Revan to her core as she stopped with only seven paces between herself and her love. Bastila Shan stood waiting atop the Temple of the Ancients on Rakata Prime, short braids twirling in the light breeze. Her dual bladed lightsaber—it was no longer a fine shade of brass but now polished and riveted durasteel—was tightly held in black, gloved hands. Her Jedi leather and cloth battle robes had been discarded, replaced with the dark robes of a Sith Lord not granted the title of Darth. Its cut and styling emulated the Jedi Knight robes Jolee and Juhani wore, coming up to flank Revan. Yet in Bastila’s eyes, there was a clear sign of conflict. For they were not fully consumed by the corruption of the Dark Side—some of her natural grey emerged from the venomous yellow that threatened to devour her.

Something of the Jedi Padawan she had fallen in love with remained after everything inflicted upon her, and Revan hoped that _something_ would be the deciding factor in whatever fate she was bound to follow. The conflict between Light and Dark within her had been simmering long before the fateful encounter aboard the _Leviathan_. Her quest to Korriban had done little to settle it, instead reminding her exactly who Darth Revan had been and just how simple slipping back into that mindset was. She had always walked the thin, treacherous line between Light and Dark during the wars she had fought. Now, before she was to confront Malak aboard the Star Forge and its dark might, she would have to solidify her path forward. A path that appeared to lead through the woman she loved.

“I cannot tell if I should be disappointed you have sworn allegiance to Malak or upset you let yourself fall so easily,” Revan remarked, eyes wet. She blinked the faint tears away. “I thought you were stronger than that, Bastila.”

“Come with us,” Juhani beseeched. A strange, annoying distance had formed in the past week or so, a byproduct of their experiences on Korriban, much to Revan’s displeasure. “We can help you return to the Light.”

“Do not think because I have accepted the Dark Side as you did, Revan, that I am loyal to Malak. I have only thrown away the chains of the Jedi. Why would I put them back on?” Bastila then sneered at the Cathar Jedi. “I am not weak like you, Juhani. Fear of the Dark Side is how the Masters control those who threaten their power. Too long they used it against me as they do you and did to Revan.”

“I’m too old to listen to these insults and delusions, girl,” Jolee said offhand, frowning at Bastila. “Turn away from the Dark or face the consequences. If Cyl won’t stop you, then I will. I don’t want her to feel the pain of doing so.”

Her glare shifted from Juhani to Jolee. “Quiet, old man. I am here for Revan alone. Those Rakatans should have done their duty and prevented you fools from joining her. If you stand in my way, then I will destroy you.”

“So you are here for me?” Revan whispered. “I should have known you would return to me, Bastila, but do not threaten them. What do you wish from me that makes them a threat?”

“I want nothing more than for you to return to your true powers. Become the Dark Lord you were and throw down your treacherous former apprentice, Malak.” Bastila spat the name, grinning as she spoke. The smile was vicious and feral—an expression not that of a Jedi. “I am yours, Revan, in every way imaginable. Let me serve you as I would have, had Malak been thwarted in his attempt to destroy you.”

_‘You cannot win, Revan!’_

_‘I have already won, Bastila. You came to me.’_

Revan almost smiled at the memory. _One could say we have come full circle from then_. “You speak of his betrayal while we dueled aboard the _Revanchist,_ dancing over the bodies of those Jedi I had already slain. Before I became the false Cylissa and boarded the _Endar Spire_.”

“I do,” Bastila confirmed. The yellow in her eyes expanded, swallowing grey, and a ripple of cold power washed over the temple roof. “I wish for nothing more than to be your apprentice and lover, to learn the secrets of the Dark Side only you know, and help you conquer the galaxy as you rightfully deserve. Let me be yours, my love.”

“Is that so?” Revan said softly, cheeks faint pink. She looked away and searched for a glimpse of the Star Forge in the sky. There was no sign of the great station, even though the system’s star was fully in view. Even at this great distance, she could feel its draw, its pull. A pull she was so desperately tempted to answer, even more so than when the Dark Side of the Force called to her on Korriban. “Tell me, my love, do you feel the currents of the future swirling around us? How the Force draws us together?”

“I do,” said Bastila, almost breathless. Their eyes locked and Revan could only see one way forward in those sulfuric eyes.

“So that is why everything feels as if it has been leading to this moment. It is as if the only certainty was that I would became Darth Revan once more. Was that all Cylissa d’Toln was born to be? One more in the legacy and lineage of the Sith Lords?”

“Girl, you can’t be thinking of taking that option,” interrupted Jolee. Revan blinked, drawn from the strange trance she had felt herself slipping into. “You know where the Dark Side leads. It already led you once to near destruction. Don’t make that mistake again.”

“Jolee speaks true,” Juhani added. “You redeemed me from the Dark Side when I would have killed my fellow Jedi for no good reason. You can redeem Bastila, just as you were redeemed after Malak’s inevitable betrayal.”

A laugh burst out of Revan. It was high and hysterical and sardonic, a nasty reflection of the conflict within solving itself. For a brief moment, her heart ached with the knowledge of what she must do. And then, before it could make her hesitate, she hardened herself with her anger, her rage, and her hatred.

“It was not done _for_ me, but _to_ me, Juhani. I was never meant for a true redemption, only to be used as a tool. The Council stole away that chance when they hid who I truly was—truly am—under fake memories and that false persona of a smuggler-turn-soldier. They sowed their downfall when they used deceit and manipulations to control me. They could have asked for my aid against Malak, reasoned with me, or even dare to learn why I became a Sith. One does not fall to the Dark Side as if it were like stumbling or tripping. It is a leap of faith, that what you will find in the darkness justifies why you dare to descend into it. They did not bother, and so I became Darth Revan for that was the only path they left for me to take.

“Their ignorance and arrogance is allowing history to repeat itself once more.”

“So you will join me?” Bastila pressed. She sounded almost giddy and Revan held herself back from crossing the distance between them and dragging the fallen Jedi into a lustful, bruising kiss. “To destroy your former apprentice, the Jedi Council, and the Republic?”

Revan nodded and crossed half the distance between herself and Bastila. Loudly, she declared, “The Council has left me with no choice. I swore once to never be their pawn again. I will not back down from that, nor relinquish my passion, my _drive_ , to defend those the Republic won’t. If they must be destroyed, then so be it.”

“Cylissa,” Jolee said, tone harsh. Revan turned to face him, furious, and saw a sudden grimace upon his face as he drew his weapon.

_My eyes are yellow. The Dark Side is strong in me, just as it was. As it was meant to be, even when I was firmly a Jedi. We all knew, in some way, this would come to pass. Jolee will not make the same mistake he did during the time of Exar Kun. Perhaps I may still have his loyalty, but I am prepared to lose him, and whomever else I must._

He ignited his lightsaber, the same blade of green that had helped to guide her through the Shadowlands of Kashyyyk. “Don’t make me destroy you. I will fight you if I must. I saw the Sith ravage the galaxy once. I won’t let you do it again as Darth Revan.”

“I am not Exar Kun nor your wife, Jolee,” Revan said, glaring. “There is a threat greater than any seen since the Great Hyperspace War. If I must be a Sith to stop it, to protect innocents, then I shall. You do not need to fall to the Dark Side to stand by my side. I only require loyalty. Be a Jedi if you must, even retreat to Tython and attempt to rebuild the failed Order. But I _must_ be the Dark Lord once more if the galaxy is to survive the coming storm.”

“I am not the old fool you think I am, girl. You would change me just as you did those who followed you into the Mandalorian Wars. I could feel it in the Force after Malachor.”

“I find your lack of faith disturbing.” _And am surprised you know what I did. Not even Malak suspected that part of the plan._

“You speak of protecting the innocent,” Juhani cut in, heart and tears in her eyes. Revan could feel her betrayal, the destruction of the trust between them. “You did so as a Jedi after you went to Cathar, but not as a Sith. What of Telos IV?”

“That was Malak’s doing!” Revan snarled. She saw the Cathar Jedi flinch back, shaky hands letting her thumb rub her weapon’s ignition. “My Empire sought to throw down the corrupt Senate and the false Jedi Council. Malak poisoned it in the months he has been given to control it. I will bring back order and clarity. When the threat I speak of comes, they will not find it as easy to destroy and conquer as they would were the current Republic and Jedi to remain in place. It will be my Sith Empire that defeats them and corrects the failures of the past. Juhani, do not act as if I am different from the Revan you have traveled with or the one who saved you on Taris so long ago. This was _always_ my fate, to be the Dark Lord of the Sith. You have followed in my steps, first when I sent you to the Jedi and then again when I went to seek the Star Maps. Why must now be different?”

“You speak of absolutes as if it makes you correct,” Jolee said. “I hope you can forgive me from the Force, girl. You were a good friend, but you are clearly lost. The same with you, Bastila.” He looked at Juhani and nodded. Her shaking hands stilled as she ignited her own lightsaber, blue as the weapon Revan had built as the false Cylissa on Dantooine. “You have brought this fate upon yourself.”

“A foolish sentiment, old man, but I cannot fault you for that line of thinking.” Revan crossed the final distance between herself and Bastila. She looked over her shoulder and gave them a sympathetic look. “Fear naught, old friends. Your deaths shall not be in vain.” She paused and added mockingly, “There is only the Force, after all.”

With a whisper, she commanded Bastila: “If you truly wish to be my apprentice, strike them down. Be quick and be clean. We must save our strength for the battles to come.”

Bastila nodded, igniting the two crimson blades of her own lightsaber and twirled it up to defend against the charging Jedi. Their fight filled Revan’s ears as she strode away to fulfill her destiny.

* * *

When Darth Revan returned to Bastila, she was kneeling in wait with her lightsaber resting before her. The corpses of Jolee and Juhani were set aside, heads removed from their bodies, their eyes closed, and arms moved to hold their lightsabers against their sternums.

_I did not foresee this level of respect for them,_ Revan realized, pausing to look at the bodies. _My apprentice shall not make the same mistakes that Malak did. The Dark Side shall not consume her, if only for what we share._

Bastila looked up as her new master approached and made to stand.

“Kneel, my apprentice.”

“Of course, my master,” Bastila intoned, head bowed. “What is thy bidding?”

“We are to make for the Star Forge and destroy the pretender Malak. Once we reach the command room, you are to hold our fleet and the Republic in a stalemate favoring us until they can be surrounded. Then, crush them without quarter.”

“What of the _Ebon Hawk_ ’s crew?” Bastila asked with a frown. “The droids and Canderous will certainly follow you. Zaalbar is bound by his life debt, but Mission and Carth…”

“Carth Onasi will be taken prisoner and I hope with time will be brought to our way of thinking. His son will be powerful and loyal for a Sith, and that will either force his loyalty or be the final straw before he dies. A shame he is so blinded to the truth about the Republic and its corruption, or else he would have joined us sooner.

“Mission will be granted the chance to freely join me, though Malak’s destruction of Taris has poisoned her mind against all things Sith. I hope Zaalbar will sway her, but I cannot tell what her fate shall be. She has great potential, but is young, foolish, and naïve.

“But if they resist for too long, then they shall perish or be ensorcelled as I did with an old _friend_ on Korriban.”

“I understand.” Bastila made to rise, but Revan kept her down with the Force. There was a hiss of startled pleasure from the kneeling woman.

“One more thing, my apprentice. You have chosen to become a Sith, to follow me down the path of the Dark Side, to accept its power instead of fearing it as the Jedi do. You have set aside who you were. That Padawan was a foolish girl and a pawn, just as my false smuggler self.” Revan smirked as Bastila filled with anger, hatred, _rage_ at the reminder of how she had been treated. “The Jedi you have abandoned prohibited forming attachments. While the one between us is the strongest you possess, it was not the first the Jedi wished to strip from you. They stole you from your parents, denying the influence they had upon you. Of course, in their arrogance you were allowed to keep their surname, to be Bastila _Shan_. That attachment once posed the greatest threat to the lies the Jedi whispered to you. They rejected the love you held for your father and turned a blind eye to the hatred you stoked for your mother. Those emotions, those _passions_ , would have given you the strength and power to be more than they ever could be. This you now know. Be reborn by the fiery depths of your attachments—your bonds—to them!

“Henceforth, you shall be known as Darth Helene.” _For who you hated most. Let that remind you the power the Dark Side offers._

“Thank you, my master,” Darth Helene said, lowering her head. “I pledge myself to you and your teachings.”

“Then rise, my apprentice.” _And my lover._

Who had once been the fallen Jedi Bastila Shan now stood as Darth Helene, apprentice and lover to Darth Revan, Dark Lord of the Sith. Her eyes were filled with the true power of the Dark Side, yellow bright backed by a red sunburst. A wonderful, powerful thrill ran through Revan at the sight, but she suppressed the urges and desires it inspired.

“We must go if we are to be victorious. Let me speak with our _friends_ , my apprentice.”

And so the two Sith Lords descended through the Temple, passing the corpses of the Dark Jedi that had stood between Revan and her new apprentice.

_A waste, but I had been resisting my true calling and thus could not bind them to my will once more. They would have better served being loyal to me, but alas fate is fickle and Malak is treacherous. I do hope those fools aboard the Star Forge have a greater sense of whom I am, or they too shall fall to my blade. I will not subject myself to Malak’s lackeys. His ways are coming to an end, so I swear._

They departed the Temple, made their way past the quiet Rakata settlements, and stepped onto the beach where the _Ebon Hawk_ and its crew waited with renewed purpose. As they trekked across the sand, Carth called out to them, racing over to meet them halfway. The rest of the crew followed in his wake, moving without considering what it meant for only two to return when three had departed.

“Bastila, are you okay? We all though we’d never see you again after what happened with Malak…” Darth Helene ignored Carth as he scanned the beach and then the path up to the Temple. “Where are Jolee Bindo and Juhani? What happened inside the Temple?”

“There was a…parting of the ways, Carth,” Revan said, sad yet without regret. “I must inform you all that there has been a change in the mission. We will still be going to the Star Forge to destroy Malak, but it will remain intact and in _my_ possession.”

“What do you mean intact and in your possession? The Republic is coming to destroy it, you know that,” Carth said, frowning and defensive. And then their eyes met. She could feel how his horror and dread rose as he stepped back. “Your…your eyes! I saw enough—heard enough—on Korriban to know what they mean. You’re Darth Revan again, aren’t you? That’s why you left my son there, so you would have someone loyal for when you reclaimed the Sith!”

_You barely saw anything of Korriban, Carth. Dustil was the most you encountered and he is not what you think. He is more, and he is mine._

“You are correct in saying I am Darth Revan once more. I have taken a new apprentice, one greater than Malak ever was,” Revan remarked with a toothy grin. Darth Helene straightened at being mentioned, her own yellow eyes passing over their companions. “HK, subdue Carth. Alive and intact, for now. I have plans for him, though you can rough him up later.”

“Displeased statement: As you command, Master.”

As Carth reached for his blasters, he was taken from behind with a stun bolt. He thumped onto the sand, startling Mission and Zaalbar. HK looked down at the unconscious pilot with scorn and asked, “Query: When do I get to kill the whiny meatbag? Declaration: I have been itching to rip him apart for months now, master. Let me kill him. Or even maim him.”

“In time. It will be his decision how he dies, should he demand that fate. I hope there is a chance to regain his loyalty, how ever unlikely it may be.”

“What’s wrong with you, Cyl?” Mission asked, frantic and with a hint of fear. “Why…why would you…?”

“Did you not listen, Mission? I have reclaimed my station as the Dark Lord of the Sith, even if Malak does not know yet. Bastila has sworn her allegiance to me and is now my new apprentice, Darth Helene. Declare your loyalty, if only to me personally and not to my Empire. After this, I shall not be merciful with you. I want you by my side for what is to come. After today, there is only a choice between loyalty and death.” Her yellow eyes flickered across the faces of her other companions on her mission to the Star Forge. “That goes for everyone here. Jolee and Juhani have already paid the price for their disloyalty. Do not make their mistake.”

“Pleased statement: I am ready to kill more meatbags for you, Master. You have returned to your former self at last. Affirmation: Hail Revan!”

T3 beeped an affirmative, for what choice does an astromech droid truly have?

“I already said I would follow you, Revan,” Canderous said, grim but proud. “Sith, Jedi, they mean nothing to me. Us Mandalorians have no love for the Republic anyways. You are my leader until death, Mand’alor.”

Revan nodded. “Mission, Zaalbar? What do you say?”

“The Sith destroyed Taris,” Mission said, tears streaking down her face. Revan was disappointed by how distraught the twi’lek was becoming. “I…I can’t join you. You’ve become evil.” She turned to her long time companion. “Come on, Big Z. Let’s get out of here.”

Zaalbar growled and Revan smirked as the twi’lek turned to her oldest friend. Claiming the Wookie’s life debt on Taris had been the right choice, for it held him to her cause.

“You heard Zaalbar, Mission. Swear fealty to me, if not to live then for the bond of friendship we have forged. You were the first to accept I was Revan. Why do you hesitate now?”

Mission turned back to Revan, a scared determination coming forth. “I won’t join you! You’ll…you’ll just have to kill me instead! I thought you were my friend, but you’re not!”

Revan rolled her eyes. _And she says she isn’t a child._ “HK, stun her too.”

Mission gasped and then joined Carth, unconscious on the sand. “Query: Master, why do you have me stunning meatbags? I was built to eviscerate their watery bodies.”

“They remain useful to me, HK. Lock them in the dorm where Trask is being held and make sure they don’t have tools to escape. Zaalbar, help him. Canderous, prepare the _Ebon Hawk_ for departure. I have a loose end to take care of.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to add that elements of this chapter and a short rebuild version were inspired by a tumblr post by mylordshesacactus entitled, “Beginnings Must Be Clean: Why KOTOR’s Dark Side Ending Is Most In Line With The Philosophy Of Star Wars.” I’m something of a sucker for good meta on larger narrative and storytelling practices.


	4. Part IV - Revanchist Reborn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beyond the rebuild of Chapter 3 that’ll be posted within 36 hours of this chapter, this is the end of the line for this AU. I may come back to it at some point in the future, but I have too many projects going on right now to seriously pursue it at present.

“You have come as I expected. The Dark Side is strong with you, my old master. But here on the Star Forge, I am invincible.”

Revan snorted. “We both knew this could only end one way, Squint. It was always going to end with one of us dead on the other’s lightsaber when we decided to become Sith Lords. Though I still cannot imagine why you thought it could ever be me, dead on yours. Then again, you were arrogant even as a Jedi. Or perhaps you became an idiot upon being fully consumed by the Dark Side.”

Darth Malak turned to face Darth Revan as she slowly approached. The Observation Platform of the Star Forge was one of the largest chambers inside the great and ancient facility. Several booths were set around the area, holding Jedi from the Dantooine Enclave within their dark grasp. Revan could feel them in the Force, hanging just on the edge between life and death. Behind Malak was a massive, curving window that revealed the raging battle between the Sith Armada and whatever Republic forces Admiral Dodonna had gathered. The two Dark Lords knew their fight would lead to the same outcome—the beginning of the end for the Republic and the moment the Sith Empire came into its full supremacy. Their fight was but that to determine who was the _true_ Dark Lord of the Sith to rule over the galaxy upon that final victory.

“You are the arrogant one if you think you can defeat me,” Malak snarled. “It shall finally bring about your destruction. I had thought to turn the full might of the Star Forge against you, but I do not need that to destroy you in your weakened state, Revan. Only its dark influence is enough for me to overcome you.”

She snorted, the sound crackling through the mask’s vocalizer. “The Star Forge will always answer to me before you, Malak. I do wonder, though. Do you tell yourself that I am arrogant so you can live with and even ignore your failures? Your first attempt at an apprentice was a failure and died with little effort. Bastila as a _Jedi_ defeated him and rather handily too. Then you turned to her, and if we are speaking of arrogance, then yours was on full display with that decision.

“She was already mine when she fell into your hands. I’m surprised I’m saying this, but thank you for guiding her to the Dark Side. I have replaced you with her—something I had long considered before you fired upon the _Revanchist_ —and I know for certain I will not need to be as mindful of her as I was of you. Darth Helene is loyal in ways you could never be.”

“It is the way of the Sith to destroy ones’ master, Revan.” Malak seemed to smile, even with the metal construct that had replaced his lower jaw. She had erred then, letting him live. “One day she will turn on you and either she shall become the Dark Lord of the Sith or you will destroy her as you have destroyed everything else precious to you.”

“Perhaps,” Revan admitted. “But that will only come to pass after I have dealt with you, my failed pupil.”

She then ignited her lightsabers, humming red and violet. They were the same lightsabers she had carried when they returned from the Unknown Regions, when they found the Star Forge, when they attacked the Republic at Foerost and began the Jedi Civil War. Bastila had held onto them, along with her helmet. _For safekeeping_ , she said while enroute from Rakata Prime. The Mandalorian helmet she had found on Cathar had returned to its rightful place upon her head, the final declaration of whom Revan was for all to see. She was the Lord of Vengeance. The return of all three to her marked, in many ways, the conclusion to the great venture to destroy Malak and, unknown to the Jedi, her grand rebirth.

_The Force must have known even then how closely we were bound, and perhaps even our destiny. I can feel my apprentice’s gift fueling me just as the Dark Side does. I hope Malak has made peace with the fact the last thing he shall see is this mask._

“Then let us end this,” Malak declared, igniting his own crimson lightsaber.

The moments leading to the first clash of blades was slow and methodical, a time to plan and plot how their fight would play out. Revan drew upon the Dark Side, the strength Bastila funneled into her through both their bond and her battle meditation, and delved into the inherent strength of the Star Forge.

 _The Force fights for us, Master,_ Helene reminded. _Let me handle the Republic while you deal with your former apprentice._

Revan grinned and brought her weapons down upon Malak. She slashed in crosses, first aiming to cut him from shoulder to hip, then from neck to groin, and finally sideways across his torso. He defended himself against them, but stepped back with each attack. She continued to press her attack, battering at his lumbering defense and slipping around every counter attack. Her violet blade slipped behind his guard and seared his left shoulder, burning flesh and rending his red jumpsuit. He grunted and used the Force to push her away.

Malak hobbled over to one of the strange holding booths with a Jedi from Dantooine. “Do you recognize them?”

“Weaklings from the conclave you attacked,” Revan said with a shrug. “A shame I won’t have the chance to turn them, but you have been ruining my plans too long. It matters not why they are here. I will kill you, even if I must carve through them.”

“Oh, they are not here for you to fight,” Malak declared. And then he turned to the booth. She felt him reach out with the Force, drawing upon the dark signature of the Star Forge, and tear away the Jedi’s life force and draw it into himself. Revan gasped, momentarily startled by the lengths Malak was going to gain the upper hand.

 _I should not be surprised,_ she reminded herself. _I am Sith, just as he. We do whatever we must for power. No matter how destructive and immoral it may be._

“As long as I possess the Star Forge, I am invincible, Revan. There is no hope for you. I am the true Dark Lord of the Sith.”

“Then I will break your power and destroy you, piece by piece.” Revan moved not to confront Malak, but for the booth nearest to her. She drove her crimson blade through the Jedi, shattering the booth and letting them pass into the Force.

Malak bellowed. “How dare you! You will not defeat me, my old master! No matter what tricks you try, I have surpassed you.”

_A shame I am wearing this helmet. Otherwise, he would see my smirk and grow even more furious. I guess he was named the Lord of Malice for a reason._

In the end, she only said, “Then stop me, Squint.”

Revan cackled and flipped, absorbing Force lightning and returning with Force drain whenever her lightsabers weren’t enough to deflect the blasts of power. It took longer than she wished, but her violet blade slashed through the final Jedi bound to strengthen Malak. Her former apprentice roared, his fury boiling over, and charged like a Bull rancor gone mad. She stood her ground, spinning her blades into a mixed-form stance. With each step, he drew closer. As she could read the fury in his bloody yellow eyes, she smirked.

It was over in a flash of red and violet and red. Malak fell onto his knees with a mechanical gasp, his lightsaber turning off and falling away, rolling until it came to a stop at her feet. His arms were drawn in to feel and hide the deep slashes across his chest.

“It is over,” Revan declared, deactivating her weapons. “Do you have any parting words, my failed apprentice?”

“This…this should not…have happened,” Malak said, struggling to hold onto life. “I…I am the…Dark Lord…of…the Sith. Not…you.”

“No longer. You were a fool to challenge me, both in the Sernpidal System and here aboard the Star Forge. Your reliance upon its power was your undoing. My hatred of what you have done to my plans and me was fuel enough to destroy you a thousand times. But then, you were always weaker than me even as Jedi.”

“You are…right,” Malak admitted and she saw his eyes flicker from yellow to hazel. “As always…you…were right…Revan. You are conquer…and savior…hero and villain…and I? I am…nothing. And I…fade…into dark…ness.”

Malak collapsed and Revan knew it then and there. He was dead and she was once more the Dark Lord of the Sith. Her dark form remained standing over the corpse for a long moment and then departed the Observation Platform.

It was a long, quiet stroll back to where she left Darth Helene and HK-47. When she entered the chamber with its great holographic map of the Star Forge and the battle beyond, she removed her helmet and grinned.

“Finish them, Lady Helene. I have a Republic to destroy and an Empire to rule. I do not wish to leave my loyal troops waiting. Prove that yourself to be the Lord of Victory as I am the Lord of Revenge.”

“As you command, _master_ ,” Darth Helene said, grinning. Revan closed her eyes, feeling the flow of the Force and of the battle. With the slow certainty of poison creeping through veins, the Republic Fleet sent to destroy the Star Forge was routed. She felt the spark of Master Vandar extinguished. Soon, eleven other Masters would suffer his fate and the Council would be no more. Soon, her Sith Empire would stretch from its ancestral world of Korriban to the capital world of the Republic. The Jedi would join her or be sent to Tython, the ancestral world she knew the location of. She had been honest to Jolee on the matter of letting those Jedi who wouldn’t join her would live. _I never did say whether the Jedi would have the choice of where to go, did I. Nor did I tell him how they would be confined to that world with no means of departing for whatever purpose they wished._ They would no longer be a threat, bundled in on a single world with no capacity to train new Jedi.

In time, their ancient religion would be forgotten. Those sensitive to the workings of the Force would only be Sith.

And she, Revan, their Dark Lord, would rule the galaxy with apprentice and lover by her side.


	5. Rebuild: Choice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I was first writing Part III of this story, A Full Memory, I actually wrote this bit first before going back and writing the version that appears in the story. This didn’t fit the narrative I wanted to write, even if some elements do appear. I did like what I had started, though, so I kept this. It only features the section in the Temple.
> 
> Do note that the beginning is identical to Part III.

“Revan. I knew you would come for me. Malak did not think you would come here, but he does not know you as I do. I have missed you so _dearly_.”

Those words chilled Revan to her core as she stopped with only seven paces between herself and her love. Bastila Shan stood waiting atop the Temple of the Ancients on Rakata Prime, short braids twirling in the light breeze. Her dual bladed lightsaber—it was no longer a fine shade of brass but now polished and riveted durasteel—was tightly held in black, gloved hands. Her Jedi leather and cloth battle robes had been discarded, replaced with the dark robes of a Sith Lord not granted the title of Darth. Its cut and styling emulated the Jedi Knight robes Jolee and Juhani wore, coming up to flank Revan. Yet in Bastila’s eyes, there was a clear sign of conflict. For they were not fully consumed by the corruption of the Dark Side—some of her natural grey emerged from the venomous yellow that threatened to devour her.

Something of the Jedi Padawan she had fallen in love with remained after everything inflicted upon her, and Revan hoped that _something_ would be the deciding factor in whatever fate she was bound to follow. The conflict between Light and Dark within her had been simmering long before the fateful encounter aboard the _Leviathan_. Her quest to Korriban had done little to settle it, instead reminding her exactly who Darth Revan had been and just how simple slipping back into that mindset was. She had always walked the thin, treacherous line between Light and Dark during the wars she had fought. Now, before she was to confront Malak aboard the Star Forge and its dark might, she would have to solidify her path forward. A path that appeared to lead through the woman she loved.

“I cannot tell if I should be disappointed you have sworn allegiance to Malak or upset you let yourself fall so easily,” Revan remarked, eyes wet. She blinked the faint tears away. “I thought you were stronger than that, Bastila.”

“Come with us,” Juhani beseeched. A strange, annoying distance had formed in the past week or so, a byproduct of their experiences on Korriban, much to Revan’s displeasure. “We can help you return to the Light.”

“Do not think because I have accepted the Dark Side as you did, Revan, that I am loyal to Malak. I have only thrown away the chains of the Jedi. Why would I put them back on?” Bastila then sneered at the Cathar Jedi. “I am not weak like you, Juhani. Fear of the Dark Side is how the Masters control those who threaten their power. Too long they used it against me as they do you and did to Revan.”

“I’m too old to listen to these insults and delusions, girl,” Jolee said offhand, frowning at Bastila. “Turn away from the Dark or face the consequences. If Cyl won’t stop you, then I will. I don’t want her to feel the pain of doing so.”

Her glare shifted from Juhani to Jolee. “Quiet, old man. I am here for Revan alone. Those Rakatans should have done their duty and prevented you fools from joining her. If you stand in my way, then I will destroy you.”

“So you are here for me?” Revan whispered. “I should have known you would return to me, Bastila, but do not threaten them. What do you wish from me that makes them a threat?”

“I want nothing more than for you to return to your true powers. Become the Dark Lord you were and throw down your treacherous former apprentice, Malak.” Bastila spat the name, grinning as she spoke. The smile was vicious and feral—an expression not that of a Jedi. “I am yours, Revan, in every way imaginable. Let me serve you as I would have, had Malak been thwarted in his attempt to destroy you.”

_‘You cannot win, Revan!’_

_‘I have already won, Bastila. You came to me.’_

Revan almost smiled at the memory. _One could say we have come full circle from then_. “You speak of his betrayal while we dueled aboard the _Revanchist,_ dancing over the bodies of those Jedi I had already slain. Before I became the false Cylissa and boarded the _Endar Spire_.”

“I do,” Bastila confirmed. The yellow in her eyes expanded, swallowing grey, and a ripple of cold power washed over the temple roof. “I wish for nothing more than to be your apprentice and lover, to learn the secrets of the Dark Side only you know, and help you conquer the galaxy as you rightfully deserve. Let me be yours, my love.”

Revan rubbed a hand over her face, hiding her grimace. She had been wary of this reunion and it was quickly proving why. It was that proclamation coming from Bastila’s mouth that she had feared. _What did you do to my love, Malak? What corruptions, what tortures did you inflict upon her? Was it all to hurt me or has your lust for power grown so great?_

“Do not listen to her,” Jolee advised. He turned to Bastila. “Your head has been filled with naught but lies and torment. Only death and destruction comes from the path you walk.”

“Lies? Torment?” Bastila shot back, sneering. “While Malak did torture me for a week, it is nothing compared to what the Council inflicted upon me. They are the only ones who have lied to me, Jedi. I have freed myself from their falsehoods and learned the truth they had kept from me. They have brought death and destruction themselves through inaction and cowardice. Their fall is coming. And with them, so shall the Republic go.”

“Do you know why I declared war on the Republic?” Revan asked. She waited until all she could hear was her own breathing and the wind, soft against her ears, before continuing. “I doubt Malak would explain, so I will.” The words drew their attention to her and she let the Force flow, to hold their eyes and open their ears.

“In the Unknown Regions, Malak and I discovered that the True Sith from the Great Hyperspace War had not been destroyed as thought. They hid, biding their time. An ancient monster leads them. He saw the butchery, the genocides the Republic did upon his people at the end of their war. I do not want to think of what he will do to the Core Worlds, to worlds like Coruscant and Talravin and even Corellia. While he did corrupt us, I broke free thanks to the knowledge that the Republic and the Jedi were not ready to fight him. They would need my leadership to fight the coming storm. Perhaps they could have, if there was time after Exar Kun for both the Order and the Republic to heal and regrow. The Mandalorians and my own pride dashed those hopes, playing into what that Sith wanted. I returned to alert them of the true threat, though I knew it would never be enough.

“My only option after the Jedi Council denied my words and proclaimed me the Dark Lord of the Sith was to accept the mantle they forced upon me and seize power from the corrupt, the lazy, and the stagnant. The Star Forge aided the venture, but it was only ever a tool. If I had not needed it, I would have destroyed it. The Sith Emperor could use it to greater effect than I. Perhaps I will destroy it, once he makes his move.”

“Then you’re a fool,” Bastila sneered. “The Star Forge’s power is tremendous. It is a bastion of the Dark Side. If you shall not join me, Revan, then you shall die.”

She ignited her lightsaber. Red blades sizzled to life and she dashed forward. Jolee and Juhani had been ready and intercepted her, green and blue blades humming in turn. Revan watched the duel for a while, and then before any of them could gain the upper hand, used the Force to separate them. Jolee and Juhani crashed behind her while Bastila stumbled backwards yet kept her feet.

Bastila frowned. “You are weak, Revan, if you will not face me. I saw your fight with Malak aboard the _Leviathan_. If not for me, he would have struck you down.”

“I am weak?” Revan asked, amused and saddened. She raised a hand and shot Force lightning at Bastila. The fallen Jedi was caught on her heels and shrieked in surprise as the lightning surged around her, skipping across her tunic. No true damage had been done, for Revan had a different purpose when she drew upon the Force. “You know nothing of the Force, my love. Light and Dark are but lenses used to control and manipulate those of us who are Force-sensitive. Jedi and Sith are but two sides of the same credit chip, more lie than truth. I will admit, though, that there is a larger kernel of truth in the words of the Sith Code.”

“And what truth is that?” Bastila spat.

“ _There is no peace, only passion_ ,” Revan recited. She felt her companions tense at the line and a look of confusion crossed Bastila’s face. “One must be connected with the entirety of life and the Force if they wish to master it. The Sith knew that the Jedi’s focus on peace over emotion was their greatest weakness and have long succeeded in exploiting it. Yet, they let their passions control them and instead of mastering themselves and seeing their vision come true, they are instead mastered by their passions and a corrupting lust for power. They become little more than the slaves they claim they are not.”

“I…do not understand what you mean,” Bastila said, frowning. Revan could feel her mind as clouded through their bond, as weak as the bond had become. “Speak sense if you are to speak at all, Revan. Are you Jedi or Sith?”

“I am myself. I am the Jedi Knight Cylissa d’Toln, and I am the Sith Lord Darth Revan. The Force is my ally, beckoning to do my will. It flows through me as if I were a great nexus on a world enriched by its power. Have you not listened to my words, my love? Light and Dark are mindsets used by the shortsighted, the arrogant, and the foolish. There is only the Force, and everything it encompasses.” She held out a hand to Bastila. “You wish to be my apprentice? Come with me so I can complete your training. Malak, the Jedi, they are all slaves to their dogma and thus will never have the answers necessary to achieve true strength. Join me, my love. Step away from the lies that have clouded your full strength. Malak has no answers that you could not have gained from the Jedi.”

A disconcerted uncertainty swept through Bastila. “I…I am not strong enough to turn away. The Dark is already consuming me. The anger and hatred I feel…they blot out everything else. The peace I once felt as a Jedi is gone. There is nothing else for me.”

“There is our love, Bastila,” Revan declared. She could feel the shock of all three. And, to prove her point, she opened her side of the bond and pushed through everything she felt. Bastila gasped and a tentative part of her opened up to Revan. She grasped onto that opening and poured in her love and understanding. It was vulnerable and wanting of nothing more than security and peace. A security and peace she could offer. “Trust me. Rely upon me until you are strong enough to stand on your own feet.”

“I…I cannot,” Bastila said. She stepped back, her weapon held between them. “You…you are not what I expected.”

“What did you expect? A Jedi seeking to redeem you? A Sith demanding you slay our friends?”

“There is no redemption for me, but if you wish for me to destroy them, I will do it,” Bastila said, holding onto the final grasp of madness inflicted upon her by Malak. “I have given myself to the Dark Side of the Force. It has granted me the strength, the _power_ , I had feared for too long.” She then grinned, sinister, even as tears threatened to spill from her eyes. “There is no redemption for you either, Revan. Join me and we will throw down Malak and crush the Republic!”

“You are right,” Revan said. She held a hand up as Jolee and Juhani tried to protest her words. “You are right there is no redemption for me. The Council never gave me the chance. True, my memories have returned, but I cannot say I would have selected this exact path if the Council had given me the option. I do know I would have sought revenge, which is not the reason they would have sent me to stop Malak. Many things change, yet much remains the same. The Council fears what it cannot control, yet relies upon exactly that to save them.

“Return home to me, my love. Neither side can provide what you need, what you want. You feel it, do you not? Search your feelings. You know you feel the same as I do.”

Tears streaked down Bastila’s face after a long, silent moment. “I…I do. It frightens me more than the Dark Side ever did when I was a Jedi. I…I am a Sith. I have fallen. There is no returning from that.”

“A lie, my love.” Revan strode forward. With each step, Bastila shifted backwards. And yet despite her retreat, the gap between them shrank bit by bit. “You have but to accept the truth, the feelings we share. Do not forsake this truth you have fought to claim, to protect and grow. I told you on the _Leviathan_ , I have said it here, and I shall repeat it once more. Bastila Shan, I love you.”

“I…” Bastila paused, eyes flickering down. There was a long moment as she drew in a deep breath, and then it came out as a shuttering sob. “You…you speak true. Oh, I cannot deny it anymore. I love you as well, with all of my heart. You knew it before I did and did not give up on me and my struggles to accept it.” She collapsed to her knees, letting her lightsaber fall from her grasp and roll away. Tears flowed freely and a sad smile crested her lips. “I am not as lost as I had thought. I was so caught up in Malak’s torture and words…”

“He never truly turned you to the Dark Side,” Revan said. “He only gave you a sense of its power and tricked you to think that just a taste meant you could be nothing but a Sith.” She knelt, drawing Bastila into her arms. “Balance can be simple, for there is peace in passion, my love. You do not need to hold them back any longer.” There was no resistance, only acceptance. And with that, Malak’s final grasp upon her was shattered. Revan smiled and turned to her companions. “Jolee, Juhani, finish the mission. I will take Bastila to the _Hawk_. We must hurry, for the Republic fleet comes. I can feel its approach and we will need their strength before this is over.” They nodded and passed by Bastila. Juhani paused to give the fallen Jedi a sad look, but followed the older Jedi without comment.

“Come, my love,” Revan said, helping Bastila to her feet. She leaned into the older woman, drawing comfort through their bond. “We have one last fight before us and I will need you as much as you need me before the end.”

Bastila only nodded, closing her grey eyes with a smile.


End file.
